THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT 


,.,„,  inasicr  criminal  upon" 

the  city  which   he  is  attempting 
to  throttle. 

The  narrative  is  an  unusually 
brilliant  one,  even  for  Mr.  Mc- 
Culley  who  has  written  a  great 
many  splendid  detective  stories. 


^jSEAfflPKXJSE 


0 


BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 


Black  Star's  Campaign 


A  DETECTIVE  STORY 


By  JOHNSTON  McCULLEY 

Author  of  "John  Standon  of  Texas,"  "Black  Star." 


CHELSEA  HOUSE 

79  SEVENTH  AVENUE  NEW  YORK  CITY 


Black  Star's  Campaign 
Copyright,  1919  by  STREET  &  SMITH 


(Printed  In  the  United  States  of  America) 

All  rights  reserved,  Including  that  of  translation  Into  foreign 

languages,  including  the  Scandinavian. 


JM  i  3 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  NEWS  FOR  THE   SHERIFF     ....  n 

II.  A  SHOCK  FOR  THE  CITY 17 

III.  THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS     ....  26 

IV.  OVER  THE   TELEPHONE 36 

V.  TRAILED 47 

VI.  WHAT  KOWEN  FOUND 56 

VII.  VERBECK  INVESTIGATES 63, 

VIII.  MYSTERY  AND  AN  ALARM     ....  71 

IX.  ORDERS   AND   LETTERS 78 

X.  A   DOUBLE    CRIME 8$ 

XI.  MORE  MYSTERY 94 

XII.  ANOTHER   TELEPHONE   CALL     .     .     .  101 

XIII.  INSIDE   THE   MUSEUM 107 

XIV.  MISSING  MASTERPIECES 116 

XV.  SOME     FISHERMEN 124 

XVI.  HOT    BREAD 132 

XVII.  MUGGS  SEES  His  MAN 141 

XVIII.  MUGGS    MEETS    DISASTER     ....  147 


1G62109 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX.  IMPORTANT  INFORMATION    ...     .    ,     ,  155 

XX.    ON  THE  TRAIL 163 

XXI.  A  TENSE  MOMENT     «    „    „     *     ,.;     ..  172 

XXII.  ON   THE   ROOF     ......    .     .     .  183 

XXIII.  MUGGS  GIVES  A  TIP 192 

XXIV.  ON  THE  TRAIL     «    .    „,    ,.,    „    ,     m  202 
XXV.  END  OF  THE  TRAIL     •*»•».«•  209 

XXVI.  THE  BIG  BLOW     .     .     .     »     B1    .-    m  218 

XXVII.  MUGGS  TAKES  A  CHANCE    n    „•    ,.;    »  227 

XXVIII.  THE  ALARM     ..,.«„».  235 

XXIX.  CAUGHT  IN  THE  NET    w    .-    „    »     *  244 

XXX.  MUGGS  ARRIVES     •.««••»•»,»  249 

XXXI.  AN  EMPTY  NET     .     %    w    .    „    ,,    ,  250 

XXXII.  THE  LETTER     «     .     .    w    .     ...    ,     .„  254 


BUCK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 


CHAPTER  I 

NEWS  FOR  THE  SHERIFF 

OHERIFF  KOWEN  looked  up  from  his  desk  in 
^-J  amazement  as  the  stenographer  ushered  in  the 
woman.  The  name  on  her  card  had  told  him  noth- 
ing, and  he  had  expected  to  be  confronted  by  some 
middle-aged,  washed-out,  tired  wife  and  mother  who 
would  make  a  request  to  visit  the  jail  and  talk  with 
an  erring  relative. 

What  he  did  see  when  he  raised  his  eyes  and 
cleared  his  throat  preparatory  to  indulging  in  his 
professional  attitude,  was  a  handsomely  gowned, 
beautiful  woman  of  perhaps  thirty  years,  a  woman 
who  appeared  to  be  exceedingly  cultured  and  refined. 

Sheriff  Kowen  got  out  of  his  chair  quickly,  and 
placed  one  at  the  end  of  the  desk  for  his  visitor. 
Then  he  seated  himself  again,  and  looked  across  to 
her. 

She  appeared  to  be  nervous,  almost  distraught,  on 
the  verge  of  tears. 

"My  dear  Miss  Blanchard,"  Sheriff  Kowen  said, 
glancing  at  the  card  the  stenographer  had  handed  to 
him,  and  for  once  forgetting  his  usual  gruff  manner, 
"is  there  any  way  in  which  I  may  be  of  service  to 
you?" 

"I  scarcely  know  how  to  approach  the  subject/* 
she  replied.  The  sheriff  noticed  that  her  voice  was 
all  that  he  had  expected  it  would  be — a  voice  that 


12  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

was  modulated  to  the  correct  society  pitch.  "Such  a 
thing  as — as  this  is — well,  I  am  not  used  to  it." 

"Just  take  your  time,  and  tell  me  in  your  own 
way,"  said  the  sheriff.  "You  have — er — some  sort 
of  a  complaint  to  make?" 

"Yes,  that  is  it.  In  the  first  place,  we  do  not  re- 
side in  this  city  regularly.  We  have  a  suite  at  a 
private  hotel — my  mother,  my  brother  and  myself. 
It  is  about  my  brother  that  I  wish  to  see  you." 

"He  is — er — in  trouble?" 

"Not  exactly  that,  but — please  tell  me,  first,  Mr. 
Kowen,  it  is  against  the  law  to  operate  a  gambling 
house,  is  it  not  ?" 

"It  most  certainly  is!"  Kowen  exclaimed.  "When 
I  was  first  elected,  I  fought  gambling  houses — got 
quite  a  reputation  for  working  along  that  line.  I 
fought  the  cheap  ones,  and  I  fought  the  pretentious 
dress-suit  establishments — cleaned  them  out!" 

"Pardon  me,  Mr.  Kowen,  but  one  remains — else 
it  is  a  new  one  that  has  opened  recently." 

"What's  that?'  the  sheriff  cried,  sitting  up 
straighter  in  his  chair.  "If  there  is  a  gambling  house 
running  in  my  section  of  the  country,  it'll  not  run 
long!" 

"I — I  feel  almost  like  a  spy,"  Miss  Blanchard  said 
"I  hate  to  be  an  informer " 

"That  is  your  duty  in  such  a  case,  my  dear  young 
lady," 

"I  feel  it  so,  under  the  circumstances,"  she  said. 
"I  do  not  want  to  cause  my  brother  trouble — but  I 
have  talked  it  over  with  mother,  and  we  decided  that 
I  should  come  and  tell  you  the  whole  thing." 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  listen,  Miss  Blanchard." 

"My  brother  is  twenty-one,  just  a  boy,  you  might 


NEWS  FOR  THE  SHERIFF  13 

say.  When  we  came  to  the  city,  he  happened  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  some  other  young  men  who 
belonged  to  a  very  fast  set.  He  began  remaining 
away  from  home  until  the  early  morning  hours,  and 
drinking  too  much,  and  all  that." 

"I  understand,  my  dear  young  lady.  Nine  young 
men  out  of  ten  sow  their  wild  oats." 

"And  he  began  spending  more  money  than  he 
could  afford  to  spend.  Mother  and  I  began  to  fear 
he  would  dissipate  his  share  of  my  father's  estate, 
for  he  controls  it  since  he  has  come  of  age.  We 
wondered  where  the  money  was  going — and  finally 
we  found  out." 

"Gambling  joint?" 

"Yes,  sir.  A  gambling  den  in  a  large  house  in  the 
most  exclusive  section  of  the  city." 

"Those  are  the  places  I  like  to  smash!"  Sheriff 
Kowen  told  her. 

"I  can  give  you  the  address,  Mr.  Kowen.  I  un- 
derstand that  a  man  cannot  get  into  the  place  unless 
he  is  properly  introduced." 

"Naturally,  they  would  be  very  careful,"  the  sheriff 
said. 

"It  is  what  you  called  a  dress-suit  sort  of  place. 
Perhaps  I  am  doing  wrong  telling  you  this " 

"Not  at  all.  It  is  your  duty,"  the  sheriff  assured 
her.  "Nobdy  ever  will  know  where  I  got  my  infor- 
mation." 

"I'd  like  to  have  the  place  closed  up,"  Miss  Blan- 
chard  continued,  "so  that  my  brother  and  other  young 
men  will  not  be  robbed  of  their  money  and  ruined.  I 
suppose  you  would  have  to  make  a  raid — I  believe 
that  is  the  term?  I'd  hate  to  cause  my  brother  trou- 
ble, but  a  little  scare  might " 


14  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I  understand,  Miss  Blanchard.  It  is  probable  that 
he  would  be  caught  in  a  raid,  placed  under  arrest  for 
frequenting  a  gambling  resort,  and  brought  to  jail. 
He  would  immediately  put  up  bail  for  his  appearance 
in  court.  He  would  give  an  assumed  name,  and  not 
show  up  in  the  morning,  forfeiting  his  bail.  So 
there  would  be  little  publicity,  but  he  would  get  a 
scare." 

"Oh,  thank  you!  If  it  could  be  done  that 
way " 

"It  can,  my  dear  Miss  Blanchard.  We  are  de- 
termined to  exterminate  gambling  houses.  The 
court  is  in  accord  with  me  in  this  matter.  Since  you 
give  me  the  information,  you  may  be  sure  I'll  protect 
your  brother's  interests  to  a  certain  extent.  We'll 
frighten  him  a  bit,  but  you  need  have  no  fear  he  will 
serve  a  term  in  jail,  or  anything  like  that." 

"I  understand,"  said  Miss  Blanchard. 

"Simply  give  me  the  address — and  then  forget  that 
you  have  seen  and  spoken  to  me.  I'll  do  the  rest. 
You  must  be  very  careful,  of  course,  not  to  let  your 
brother  suspect  that  you  have  been  here.  He  would 
inform  his  friends,  and  our  raid  would  fail.  Every 
time  a  raid  fails,  it  hurts  us.  A  certain  part  of  the 
public,  antagonistic  politicians  and  newspapers,  you 

9j 

"I  understand,  Mr.  Kowen.  Here  is  the  address — 
I  have  written  it  on  a  card." 

She  placed  the  card  before  him  on  the  desk. 
Sheriff  Kowen  glanced  at  it. 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed.  "So!  I  should  say  it 
was  in  the  most  exclusive  section  of  the  city.  This 
is  very  valuable  information,  Miss  Blanchard,  if  our 
investigation  bears  out  your  statements.  I  cannot 


NEWS  FOR  THE  SHERIFF  15 

thank  you  enough.  There  will  be  more  to  this  than 
a  gambling-house  raid;  the  owners  of  the  property 
must  give  the  court  a  little  explanation,  I  fear." 

"You  are  sure  that  I  did  not  do  wrong  coming 
here  like  this?" 

"I  am  sure  that  you  did  quite  right,  my  dear 
young  lady.  You  perhaps  have  aided  us  in  rounding 
up  sharpers  who  fleece  young  men  of  their  fortunes, 
and  perhaps  you  have  saved  your  brother.  He  is 
at  the  stage,  I  take  it,  where  a  little  scare  will  do 
him  a  lot  of  good.  You  have  done  quite  right!" 

"Then  I  must  hurry  away,"  she  said,  rising. 
"And  I  shall  do  as  you  said — forget  that  I  have 
been  here.  My  brother " 

"I'll  watch  out  for  him,  Miss  Blanchard — a  little 
scare  and  nothing  more!  It  is  the  proprietor  of 
the  place  and  his  partners  we  are  after,  more  than 
the  victims." 

Sheriff  Kowen  went  as  far  as  the  corridor  with 
Miss  Blanchard,  and  then  hurried  back  to  his  private 
office  and  began  pushing  buttons.  He  called  before 
him  certain  of  his  deputies,  gave  them  the  infor- 
mation he  had  acquired,  and  certain  orders,  and  sent 
them  away.  Then  he  touched  match  to  cigar,  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  blew  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke 
toward  the  ceiling,  and  chuckled  softly.  Sheriff 
Kowen  had  not  had  a  chance  to  raid  a  gambling 
house  of  any  importance  for  more  than  a  year; 
and  raiding  a  gambling  house  was  his  pet  sport. 
He  promised  himself  that  this  raid  should  be  sen- 
sational in  the  extreme.  Gambling  houses  were  not 
going  to  flourish  while  Kowen  was  holding  office 
as  sheriff. 

As    for   Miss  Blanchard,   she   drove   in  a  taxicab 


16  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

to  an  exclusive  private  hotel,  ascended  in  the  elevator 
to  the  eighth  floor,  and  entered  a  suite  there. 

A  woman  of  forty  was  sitting  before  a  window 
looking  down  at  the  busy  street.  She  was  talking 
to  a  man  of  about  the  same  age,  a  man  who  appeared 
to  be  a  prosperous  merchant,  or  something  of  the 
sort,  and  who  looked  up  quickly  when  Miss  Blanchard 
entered. 

"Well,  Mamie,  how  about  it?"  he  growled. 

"It  was  easy!"  Miss  Mamie  Blanchard  replied. 
"He  fell  for  it  so  hard  that  I  could  almost  see 
him  bounce.  He  swallowed  the  bait,  hook,  sinker 
and  line.  We've  played  the  game  just  right — that 
man  would  rather  raid  a  gambling  joint  than  eat!" 

"Think  he'll  get  busy  right  away?"  the  man  asked. 

"Busy?  The  instant  he  left  me  he  ran  back 
to  his  desk.  I  think  that  we  can  look  for  action 
to-night." 

"Well,  we'll  give  him  a  chance.  He'll  want  to 
make  sure  of  the  evidence  first,  of  course,  and 
we'll  see  that  he  gathers  plenty  of  that  without  too 
much  trouble.  All  the  other  details  have  been  ar- 
ranged. I'll  issue  orders  this  afternoon,  and  have 
everything  in  readiness.  We  can't  go  wrong  on 
this." 

"And   afterward?"   the   girl  asked. 

"You'll  get  your  reward,  all  right.  If  this  man's 
town  isn't  crazy  within  forty-eight  hours,  it'll  be 
something  peculiar.  You  know  your  part,  I 
suppose  ?" 

"Certainly." 

"Get  ready,  then.  I'll  go,  now,  and  get  word  to 
all  the  boys.  I'm  glad  that  the  long  wait  is  over, 
that  we  are  ready  to  strike!" 


CHAPTER  II 

A  SHOCK  FOR  THE  CITY 

THE  deputies  sent  forth  by  Sheriff  Kowen  did 
their  work  well,  and  without  experiencing  much 
difficulty.  Their  investigations  were  concluded  be- 
fore nightfall,  and  the  sheriff  rubbed  his  hands 
together  in  glee  when  he  received  their  reports. 

At  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  he  sat  at  his  desk 
and  answered  telephone  calls.  At  a  certain  place 
near  the  gambling  house  his  men  had  gathered. 
Kowen  knew  from  experience  that  it  did  not  do 
to  have  them  meet  at  his  office  or  the  county  jail. 
There  always  was  somebody  watching,  and  any 
unusual  activity  would  cause  a  warning  to  be  flashed 
to  every  resort  that  had  reason  to  expect  a  raid. 

"It's  all  right,  boss,"  one  of  his  deputies  tele- 
phoned. "We've  been  on  the  watch  since  eight 
o'clock.  There  are  about  thirty  men  in  the  place 
now,  and  more  coming  all  the  time.  They're  pretty 
bold  about  it — feel  safe,  I  reckon." 

"That's  because  they've  been  getting  away  with  it 
for  a  few  months,"  the  sheriff  replied.  "We'll 
make  'em  sick  before  morning." 

He  finished  smoking  his  cigar;  then  left  the  office 
and  walked  down  the  street  to  the  corner,  as  he 
always  did  at  that  hour  of  the  night.  That  was  to 
make  things  appear  natural,  if  anybody  happened 
to  be  watching.  He  waited  for  a  surface  car,  got 
aboard,  and  started  home.  At  a  certain  corner,  he 
alighted  in  order  to  transfer  to  another  line. 


i8  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN' 

But  Sheriff  Kowen  did  not  use  his  transfer  to- 
night. He  made  sure  that  nobody  was  watching 
him,  and  then  darted  down  a  side  street.  He  pulled 
his  hat  over  his  eyes,  bent  his  shoulders  forward, 
and  walked  rapidly  down  the  broad  avenue  toward 
the  exclusive  residential  section  of  the  city. 

He  had  a  mile  to  walk.  He  covered  three  fourths 
of  it  at  a  good  pace,  and  then  slowed  down  and 
became  more  alert.  He  passed  another  man  on  a 
corner. 

"All   right,   boss,"   the  man  whispered. 

"All  right!"   Sheriff  Kowen  answered. 

Kowen  went  on  up  the  street.  He  stopped  in  a 
dark  spot  beneath  an  overhanging  tree,  and  looked 
at  a  house  in  the  middle  of  the  block.  He  knew 
the  property;  it  belonged  to  an  old  estate,  and  was 
handled  by  a  well-known  real  estate  firm.  For 
years  it  had  been  without  a  tenant.  The  investiga- 
tion made  by  the  deputies  during  the  afternoon  had 
resulted  in  the  information  that  it  had  been  repaired 
and  leased  some  three  months  before  to  strangers 
in  the  ctiy,  but  people  who  had  exhibited  good 
references. 

It  was  some  distance  away  from  the  other  resi- 
dences, and  the  lot  was  bordered  by  a  high  hedge, 
except  in  front.  It  was  an  ideal  location  for  a 
fashionable  gambling  resort. 

As  Kowen  watched,  he  saw  a  young  man  saunter 
down  the  street,  hesitate  a  moment,  then  enter  the 
gate  and  hurry  toward  the  house. 

"Another  victim!"  Kowen  told  himself. 

Now  one  of  his  deputies  approached  him,  keeping 
in  the  shadows  as  much  as  possible. 

"Well?"    Kowen   snapped. 


A  SHOCK  FOR  THE  CITY  19 

"Almost  forty  men  in  there,  boss,"  the  deputy 
reported. 

"All  our  crowd  ready?" 

"Yes." 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"Quarter  after  twelve.  I  looked  at  my  watch 
as  I  walked  under  the  light  at  the  corner." 

"Let's  get  in  action  then,"  Kowen  said.  "I  don't 
want  any  slips,  now.  I  want  to  gather  in  the  whole 
lot.  Got  the  autos  ready?" 

"They're  ready,  boss,  waiting  down  the  street  a 
couple  of  blocks." 

"Signal    them    up,    and    we'll    begin." 

The  deputy  hurried  away.  Sheriff  Kowen  crossed 
the  street,  turned  in  through  the  gate,  and  blew  a 
whistle. 

On  every  side,  deputies  rushed  toward  the  house, 
surrounding  it  immediately.  Kowen  ran  up  the 
steps  and  knocked  at  the  door.  An  aperture  was 
opened,  a  face  peered  out,  there  was  an  exclamation, 
and  the  aperture  was  closed  again. 

"Into   it!"   Kowen  cried. 

Deputies  ran  forward  with  axes  and  attacked 
the  heavy  door.  The  door  at  the  rear  was  attacked 
in  the  same  manner.  Some  of  the  men  guarded  the 
entrance  to  the  basement,  others  watched  the  windows 
closely. 

The  front  door  crashed  down,  and  the  officers 
poured  into  the  house.  From  the  second  floor 
came  a  chorus  of  cries  and  shrieks.  The  lights 
had  been  extinguished,  and  electric  torches  flashed. 

"Watch  those  stairs!"  Kowen  cried.  "Some  of 
you  clean  out  the  basement — I  want  the  entire 
crowd!  I'll  go  above!" 


20  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN1 

They  made  their  way  to  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
smashed  through  another  door,  flashed  their  torches, 
found  the  light  switch  and  turned  it.  The  big 
room  was  bathed  in  light. 

Sheriff  Kowen  smiled  grimly  as  he  surveyed  the 
scene.  He  saw  faro  and  roulette  layouts,  poker 
tables,  almost  every  gambling  device  known.  Some 
two  score  of  men  in  evening  dress  were  crouching 
against  the  walls.  A  glance  was  enough  to  tell  the 
sheriff  the  customers  and  the  dealers.  He  slapped 
his  hands  together. 

"Round  'em  up!"  he  ordered. 

His  deputies  sprang  to  obey.  One  by  one,  the 
men  in  the  room  were  manacled,  despite  their  pro- 
tests. When  Sheriff  Kowen  raided  a  gambling 
house,  he  did  not  do  things  by  halves. 

A  trowd  had  collected  in  the  street  by  now. 
The  automobiles  Kowen  had  ordered  were  before 
the  house,  ready  to  receive  their  loads  of  prisoners. 
Kowen  received  reports  from  deputies  who  had 
searched  the  place  from  cellar  to  garret.  He  de- 
tailed men  to  guard  the  house  and  the  gambling  ap- 
paratus it  contained,  and  then  the  parade  began. 

The  parade  was  always  a  big  moment  with  Kowen. 
He  stood  at  the  curb  and  watched  the  prisoners 
pass  him  and  go  to  the  automobiles.  He  enjoyed 
the  looks  of  wrath,  of  fear  in  the  faces  of  these 
callow  youths.  Some  of  them  he  knew,  but  a  very 
few.  For  the  most  part,  the  prisoners  seemed  to 
be  strangers  to  him,  but  that  did  not  bother  Kowen. 
The  city  was  a  large  one;  a  new  crop  of  victims 
appeared  every  week,  the  sheriff  knew. 

The  prisoners  were  driven  to  the  county  jail  and 
taken  into  the  office.  Kowen  informed  them  as  to 


A  SHOCK  FOR  THE  CITY  21 

the  charges,  and  announced  that  bail  would  be  one 
hundred  dollars  in  each  case,  except  that  of  the 
proprietor  of  the  place.  The  jailer  and  bookkeeper 
got  ready. 

It  was  then  that  Sheriff  Kowen  got  his  first  sur- 
prise. With  the  exception  of  the  proprietor,  none 
of  his  prisoners  would  furnish  bail.  The  arrest 
was  an  outrage,  they  declared.  They  had  been 
informed  that  the  ordinance  against  gambling  was 
unconstitutional.  They  were  going  to  jail,  going  to 
fight  the  case,  and  then  sue  for  damages.  They'd 
show  Sheriff  Kowen  and  his  men  that  citizens  had 
rights  that  should  be  respected. 

"Are  you  a  bunch  of  lunatics?"  Kowen  cried. 
"Don't  you  worry  about  that  gambling  law — we've 
convicted  many  a  man  on  it,  men  who  had  coin  to 
fight  their  cases,  too.  And  let  me  tell  you  men 
something — if  you  go  into  cells,  your  right  names 
go  down  on  the  blotter.  They'll  go  into  the  news- 
papers, too;  and  the  people  of  this  city  will  know 
just  who  the  men  are  who  smash  laws  and  waste 
money !" 

"We're  not  worrying  any  about  that  stuff!"  one 
of  the  prisoners  told  him. 

"Then  you'll  be  searched  and  slammed  into  cells, 
believe  me!  And  you'll  be  treated  like  ordinary 
prisoners.  I  have  a  faint  idea  that  you'll  be  dead 
willing  to  put  up  bail  by  noon.  These  cells  of 
mine  are  not  comfortable  suites.  And  you'll  miss 
your  baths  and  grapefruit  in  the  morning,  and  your 
thin  toast!  Well?" 

None  made  reply.  Kowen  glanced  around  the 
room  at  them,  and  then  an  angry  flush  came  into 


22  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

his  face.  He  had  half  a  dozen  deputies  there,  and 
the  night  jailer  and  the  bookkeeper.  He  had  let 
'the  other  deputies  go,  thinking  this  would  be  like 
other  raids,  that  the  prisoners  would  put  up  bail 
immediately  or  telephone  for  it,  and  hurry  to  their 
homes. 

"Line  up  against  that  wall!"  he  commanded.  "If 
you  are  so  eager  to  go  to  jail,  we  can  accommodate 
you,  all  right.  The  jailer  will  search  you." 

The  jailer  appeared  before  the  first  man,  who 
started  taking  things  from  his  pockets.  Sheriff 
Kowen  turned  his  back  and  started  for  his  private 
office  in  disgust.  Newspapermen  were  waiting  there 
for  him,  and  the  sheriff  did  not  dislike  publicity. 

Then    something   strange   happened! 

With  the  exceptions  of  the  few  men  known  to 
the  sheriff,  every  prisoner  drew  something  from 
his  pocket.  Something  seemed  to  crash  against  the 
floor.  There  was  a  series  of  sharp  explosions,  and 
the  office  and  rooms  adjoining  were  filled  with  clouds 
of  white,  pungent  smoke. 

The  jailer  opened  his  mouth  to  shout  a  warning, 
and  toppled  over  on  the  floor  without  having  spoken. 
Here  and  there  the  deputies  were  dropping,  none  of 
them  having  time  to  get  out  a  revolver  and  fire  a 
shot.  Sheriff  Kowen  rushed  in  from  his  private 
office  to  have  a  cloud  of  the  pungent  vapor  strike 
him  full  in  the  face.  The  newspaper  reporters 
suffered  a  like  fate. 

The  prisoners  were  holding  tiny  sponges  to  their 
nostrils,  and  now  they  sprang  into  action.  Some 
rushed  to  the  street  door  and  locked  and  barred  it. 
Others  drew  the  shades  at  the  windows.  Ono 


A  SHOCK  FOR  THE  CITY  23 

searched  the  jailer  and  got  his  keys,  and  hurried 
toward  the  door  leading  into  the  corridor. 

This  door  was  opened.  Four  of  the  prisoners 
rushed  down  the  aisle  and  came  to  a  certain  cell. 
Inside  it  a  man  was  sitting  on  a  bunk. 

"Good    work!"    he    exclaimed. 

The  door  of  the  cell  was  unlocked,  and  the 
man  stepped  out.  He  led  the  way  back  to  the 
office,  glanced  around  it  quickly. 

"Everything  done?"   he  asked. 

"Everything  done,   sir,"   one  of  the  men  replied. 

"Let's  go,   then!" 

The  street  door  was  unlocked.  Around  the  corner 
came  half  a  dozen  automobiles.  They  were  filled, 
and  darted  away,  scattering  as  they  came  to  the 
first  street  corner. 

Sheriff  Kowen  groaned  and  opened  his  eyes.  One 
of  his  deputies  was  just  regaining  consciousness. 
The  sheriff  tried  to  get  to  his  feet. 

"What — what "   he  began. 

"They're  all  gone — jail  door's  open,"  the  deputy 
gasped. 

"It I  know !  Vapor  bombs !"  Kowen  cried. 

"More  Black  Star  work!  Quick— look " 

Kowen  had  managed  to  get  to  his  feet  now, 
and  was  rushing  into  the  corridor  of  the  jail.  More 
deputies  were  regaining  consciousness.  The  sheriff 
pushed  past  them  and  ran  down  the  corridor.  They 
heard  him  cry  out. 

"Gone— gone!"  he  shrieked.  "The  Black  Star  has 
escaped !  It  was  all  a  trick — that  woman,  the 
gambling  joint — a  trick  to  get  all  those  men  :n  here 
so  they  could  do  their  work " 


24  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Here's  a  note  in  the  cell!"  a  deputy  cried. 

The  sheriff  took  it  and  ran  back  to  the  office. 
One  of  the  deputies  already  was  telephoning  police 
headquarters  and  relating  the  story.  The  Black  Star 
had  been  rescued!  The  supercriminal  who  had 
been  tried  and  convicted,  who  was  to  start  for  the 
State  prison  on  the  following  day,  had  made  his 
escape ! 

On  the  brow  of  each  unconscious  man  left  behind 
by  the  band  there  had  been  pasted  a  tiny  black  star — 
the  criminal's  mark.  There  was  a  row  of  them  on 
the  blotter-sheet.  They  were  on  the  walls,  on  the 
casements. 

The  reporters  rushed  for  telephones.  Here  was 
news  that  would  startle  the  city  in  the  morning. 
Was  the  town  in  for  another  reign  of  crime?  Would 
the  notorious  Black  Star  merely  make  good  his 
escape,  or  did  he  have  plans  perfected?  Was  his 
band  reorganized?  Would  he  take  vengeance  for 
his  arrest  and  incarceration? 

The  note  found  in  the  cell  supplied  the  answer. 
Sheriff  Kowen  read  it  quickly: 

To  WHOM  IT  MAY  CONCERN: 

Did  you  think  for  an  instant  that  the  Black 
Star  would  go  to  prison  to  serve  twenty  years? 
It  was  a  very  clever  rescue,  was  it  not?  And 
for  the  months  I  have  been  held  in  jail,  for  the 
strain  and  worry  of  my  trial,  I  am  going  to 
make  the  city  pay.  My  organization  is  more 
perfect  than  before.  My  plans  have  been  well 
made.  The  city  shall  pay — pay — pay !  And 
tell  that  fool  of  a  Roger  Verbeck,  who  was  in* 


A  SHOCK  FOR  THE  CITY  25 

strumental  in  catching  me  before,  that  he  will 
be  helpless  this  time.  I  defy  him  even  to  find 
the  location  of  my  headquarters. 


All  the  telephones  were  busy  now.  The  pungent 
odor  that  had  come  from  the  vapor  bombs  had 
blown  out  of  the  room.  Word  was  being  flashed 
over  the  city  that  the  Black  Star  had  been  rescued 
by  his  band,  and  that  he  had  promised  a  wave  of 
crime  to  pay  for  his  incarceration. 

Nobody  doubted  that  such  would  be  the  case. 
The  city  knew  well  that  the  Black  Star  always 
made  good  his  boasts.  Nobody  doubted  that  his 
organization  was  greater  than  it  had  been  before, 
and  that  clever  plans  had  been  made. 

The  Black  Star,  they  had  reason  to  suppose, 
would  not  wait  very  long  before  striking,  for  that 
was  not  his  nature.  The  city  faced  the  great 
question : 

Where  would  the  Black  Star  strike  first? 


CHAPTER  III 

THE     NEW     HEADQUARTERS 

ROGER  VERBECK  was  the  last  of  his  family, 
a  man  who  moved  in  the  best  social  circles, 
who  had  wealth  and  good  looks  and  friends,  and 
an  athletic  body. 

It  had  been  Roger  Verbeck  who  had  put  the 
Black  Star  behind  prison  bars.  When  the  super- 
criminal  first  began  his  work  in  the  city,  the  police 
seemed  to  be  unable  to  do  anything  against  him. 
Verbeck  had  made  a  boast  at  a  reception  one  night 
that  he  could  capture  the  Black  Star  himself.  That 
boast  had  led  to  many  adventures. 

One  of  the  Black  Star's  band  happened  to  over- 
hear the  boast,  for  the  men  and  women  working 
for  the  Black  Star  were  to  be  found  in  all  walks 
of  life,  and  there  was  nothing  strange  in  the  fact 
that  one  of  them  happened  to  be  a  guest  at  an 
exclusive  social  affair.  At  one  stage  of  the  game 
even  Verbeck  himself  had  been  suspected  of  being 
a  lieutenant  of  the  master  criminal. 

The  Black  Star  had  challenged  Verbeck  to  make 
good  his  boast,  and  there  had  ensued  a  duel  of 
wits.  Whereas  the  master  rogue  had  an  organization 
at  his  command,  Verbeck  had  nobody  except  Muggs. 

Muggs  was  a  peculiar  individual.  Years  before, 
Muggs  had  stood  on  a  bridge  over  the  Seine,  in 
Paris,  ready  to  fling  himself  into  the  water  and 
end  an  existence  that,  in  a  fit  of  despondency,  he 
had  decided  was  not  worth  carrying  out  to  its 
logical  conclusion. 


THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS  27 

Roger  Verbeck  had  grasped  him  by  the  arm  in 
time  to  save  him,  and  had  convinced  Muggs  that 
life  was  worth  the  living.  So  Muggs  became  attached 
to  Roger  Verbeck.  He  was  known  as  Verbeck's  valet, 
but  he  was  a  comrade-in-arms  in  reality.  He  shared 
Verbeck's  adventures,  and  often  turned  failure  into 
success.  He  was  ready  to  fight  for  Verbeck  at  any 
moment. 

Muggs  had  worked  with  Verbeck  against  the  Black 
Star,  and  when  the  master  criminal  finally  was  cap- 
tured and  incarcerated,  Muggs  had  turned  valet 
again.  But  Muggs  was  a  man  who  demanded  action, 
and  time  hung  heavy  on  his  hands.  For  Roger 
Verbeck  was  thinking  of  getting  married,  and  he 
had  small  time  for  adventuring. 

Muggs  was  a  small  man,  but  one  of  great  strength. 
There  was  nothing  handsome  about  him.  Some 
called  him  repulsive,  but  not  in  Roger  Verbeck's 
hearing. 

Muggs  had  been  a  criminal  and  knew  the  ways 
of  criminals.  He  had  been  of  great  value  to  Ver- 
beck on  numerous  occasions,  and  once  had  saved 
his  life.  Between  them  they  possessed  nearly  all 
human  qualifications,  and  they  made  an  excellent 
team. 

On  the  night  of  the  rescue  of  the  Black  Star, 
Roger  Verbeck  had  called  upon  his  fiancee.  He 
returned  to  his  rooms  shortly  after  the  hour  of 
twelve,  and  immediately  went  to  bed,  Muggs  retir- 
ing a  few  minutes  later.  There  was  to  be  a  golf 
tournament  the  following  day,  and  Verbeck  was  a 
contestant. 

Both  men  were  asleep  almost  immediately.  Most 
of  the  tenants  in  the  big  apartment  house  had 


28  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

retired.  In  the  office  on  the  ground  floor  a  sleepy 
clerk  was  attempting  to  keep  his  eyes  open  and 
read  a  magazine.  The  night  telephone  operator 
had  gone  to  a  restaurant  a  couple  of  blocks  away 
for  a  midnight  cup  of  coffee,  and  the  sleepy  clerk 
was  watching  the  switchboard. 

There  entered  a  gentleman  from  the  street — a 
man  whose  face  was  muffled  in  his  coat  collar.  He 
was  well-dressed,  very  much  the  gentleman,  and 
the  clerk  got  up  and  hurried  to  the  desk.  Some- 
body with  an  important  business  message  for  one 
of  the  tenants,  the  clerk  supposed. 

"Something  I  can  do  for  you,  sir?"  the  clerk 
asked. 

"Yes — go   to   sleep!"    came   the    reply. 

The  visitor  drew  a  vapor  gun  and  discharged 
it  in  the  clerk's  face.  The  latter  gasped,  and  sank 
to  the  floor.  The  one  who  had  used  the  gun  stepped 
to  the  door  and  gave  a  signal.  Three  more  men 
sprang  from  a  closed  car  standing  at  the  curb,  and 
hurried  into  the  lobby  of  the  house. 

"Telephone  operator  be  back  in  a  few  minutes," 
the  first  man  said.  "One  of  you  remain  here  and 
get  him.  Answer  any  calls  on  the  switchboard,  so 
things  will  look  natural." 

One  remained;  the  other  three  ran  quickly  up  the 
stairs,  ignoring  the  elevator,  which  was  in  the  base- 
ment, with  a  sleepy  operator  hoping  that  nobody 
would  call  him. 

The  three  made  their  way  to  the  floor  where 
Roger  Verbeck  had  his  suite.  They  listened  outside 
Verbeck's  door;  then  one  of  them  inserted  a  skeleton 
key,  pushed  out  the  key  on  the  inside,  turned  the 
lock  and  opened  the  door  half  a  dozen  inches. 


THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS  29 

Again  they  listened,  then  opened  the  door  wider 
and  slipped  inside.  It  was  evident  that  they  were 
well  acquainted  with  the  place.  While  one  of  them 
remained  in  the  big  living  room,  another  went  to 
the  door  of  Verbeck's  bedchamber,  and  a  third 
to  the  door  of  the  room  used  by  Muggs. 

There  came  a  sharp  hiss.  The  doors  were  opened. 
Figures  darted  across  rooms.  Two  vapor  guns 
were  discharged,  and  Roger  Verbeck  and  Muggs 
were  instantly  rendered  unconscious  as  they  slept. 

"Easy  work!"  one  of  the  men  commented.  "Get 
busy,  now !" 

Muggs  was  gagged  and  bound  and  lashed  to  the 
bed.  Roger  Verbeck  was  dressed  quickly  by  two 
of  the  men,  while  the  third  remained  in  the  living 
room,  listening.  When  Verbeck  had  been  made 
ready,  the  man 'in  the  living  room  slipped  into  the 
hall,  saw  that  nobody  was  there  and  that  the  elevator 
was  still  in  the  basement.  He  returned  and  gave  a 
signal,  and  the  other  two  picked  up  Verbeck  and 
carried  him  into  the  hall. 

They  went  down  the  stairs,  flight  by  flight,  meet- 
ing nobody,  and  finally  came  to  the  office  again, 
where  the  fourth  man  was  waiting.  The  telephone 
operator  had  returned  and  had  been  rendered  un- 
conscious by  means  of  a  vapor  gun. 

They  carried  Verbeck  to  the  automobile,  put 
him  in  it,  got  in  themselves,  and  the  machine  darted 
away.  Verbeck  groaned,  and  once  more  a  vapor 
gun  was  discharged  in  his  face.  He  relaxed. 

"ThaVll  do  him  until  we  get  to  headquarters," 
one  of  the  men  said.  "We  don't  want  him  sick, 
and  that  stuff  is  pretty  strong.  What  do  you 
suppose  the  boss  is  going  to  do  with  him?" 


30  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"It  is  an  excellent  plan  not  to  go  supposing  what 
the  boss  is  going  to  do  with  anybody,"  another 
growled.  "I  was  in  the  other  gang,  and  I  happen 
to  know  that  it's  a  good  thing  to  let  the  boss  at- 
tend to  his  own  affairs." 

"Well,  I  didn't  mean  anything,"  snarled  the  other. 

The  automobile  traveled  across  the  city,  and  after 
a  time  reached  a  large  house  that  sat  far  back  on  a 
quiet  lane.  Here  the  car  left  the  main  thorough- 
fare, turned  into  the  lane,  and  presently  stopped 
before  the  veranda  of  the  house.  Roger  Verbeck 
was  carried  inside.  The  automobile  was  driven 
around  to  the  rear,  and  all  its  lights  extinguished 
immediately. 

When  Verbeck  regained  consciousness  he  was 
bewildered.  He  was  in  a  room  that  was  brilliantly 
lighted.  He  was  stretched  upon  a  couch,  fully 
dressed.  He  could  not  comprehend  it  at  all. 

He  sat  up  and  looked  around  the  room.  It  was 
lavishly  furnished,  and  in  excellent  taste.  In  the 
middle  of  the  room  was  a  long  table,  and  there  were 
a  score  of  heavy  chairs  scattered  about.  There 
were  two  doors,  one  at  either  end  of  the  room, 
but  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  windows.  Here 
and  there  tapestries  hung  on  the  walls. 

He  heard  a  bell  tinkle,  and  one  of  the  doors 
opened.  There  entered  two  men,  both  wearing 
long  black  robes,  and  black  masks. 

Verbeck  knew,  then.  He  had  seen  the  costume 
of  the  members  of  the  Black  Star's  band  often 
before.  He  had  even  worn  one  once,  while  gather- 
ing evidence  for  use  against  the  master  criminal. 

So  he  had  been  abducted  by  the  Black  Star's 
men,  and  he  had  supposed  that  they  were  so  scat- 


THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS  31 

tered  that  they  could  make  no  move.  Was  he  to  be 
held  as  hostage,  or  something  like  that?  Verbeck 
knew  that  the  Black  Star  was  to  be  taken  to  prison 
within  twenty-four  hours.  Were  these  men  going  to 
avenge  themselves  upon  him  because  he  had  been 
instrumental  in  sending  their  leader  to  prison? 

"Well?"   Verbeck  growled. 

Neither  man  answered  him,  but  he  really  had 
not  expected  that.  The  members  of  the  Black  Star's 
band  did  not  talk  much.  One  of  the  men  went 
to  the  side  of  the  room,  and  threw  back  one  of 
the  tapestries,  revealing  a  small  blackboard. 

Why,  this  was  exactly  like  the  old  headquarters 
of  the  Black  Star,  for  they  had  conversed  there 
by  means  of  blackboards!  Could  it  be  possible  that 
the  band  had  gathered  again,  and  were  going  to 
continue  their  nefarious  work  without  their  leader, 
the  master  mind  that  had  guided  and  controlled 
them  before? 

Verbeck  watched  as  the  man  wrote: 

"Mr.  Verbeck  will  remain  quietly  on  the  couch 
for  the  time  being.  If  he  does  not,  he  shall  be 
made  unconscious  again." 

"What   is  the   idea?"   Verbeck   asked. 

"One  is  coming  who  wishes  to  hold  a  conversa- 
tion with  you,"  the  man  wrote  on  the  blackboard. 

"How  long  shall  I  have  to  wait?"  Verbeck  de- 
manded. 

"Until  he  comes!"  the  other  wrote,  and  then 
dropped  the  tapestry  and  went  to  stand  beside  his 
companion  before  the  door. 

Verbeck  sat  down  on  the  couch  again  and  regarded 
them.  He  felt  in  his  pocket,  found  cigarettes  and 


32  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

matches,  and  started  smoking.  His  brain  was  not 
entirely  clear  yet. 

He  wondered  what  the  man  had  meant.  Who 
was  the  person  for  whom  he  was  waiting?  Of 
course,  it  couldn't  be  the  Black  Star,  Verbeck  told 
himself.  The  Black  Star  was  to  go  to  prison  the 
following  day,  to  begin  serving  his  sentence  of 
twenty  years.  He  had  lost  his  last  appeal.  He 
had  been  a  broken  man,  evidently,  for  the  past 
two  or  three  months  had  acted  like  one  who  had 
given  up  all  hope  of  escape. 

Verbeck  smoked  the  cigarette  and  lighted  another. 
Again  a  bell  tinkled  in  the  distance.  Again  the 
door  was  opened.  Roger  Verbeck  gasped. 

The  robed  and  masked  figure  that  entered  was 
larger  than  the  other  men ;  and  on  the  front  of 
the  hood  that  enveloped  his  head  was  a  big,  flaming 
black  star  of  jet. 

The   Black   Star! 

Then  Verbeck  chuckled.  He  saw  it  now,  of 
course.  The  band  had  elected  another  leader,  and 
he  had  assumed  the  garb  of  the  Black  Star.  Prob- 
ably they  expected  to  punish  Roger  Verbeck  for 
what  he  had  done. 

The  man  who  wore  the  star  advanced  to  the 
middle  of  the  room.  One  hand  came  from  beneath 
his  robe,  and  Verbeck  saw  that  he  held  a  vapor 
gun  in  it.  He  made  a  motion,  and  the  other  two 
men  left  the  room  and  closed  the  door. 

"So  we  have  a  new  Black  Star,  have  we?"  Ver- 
beck said. 

The  man  before  him  laughed,  then  took  off  his 
mask  and  tossed  it  aside. 

"Not  a  new  one!    The  same  one!"  he  said. 


THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS  33 

Verbeck  gave  a  cry  and  sprang  from  the  couch. 
There  could  be  no  mistake.  The  notorious  master 
rogue  stood  before  him.  Verbeck  knew  his  face 
well  enough. 

"But "  he  began. 

"My  friends  rescued  me  during  the  night,"  the 
Black  Star  said.  "It  was  a  very  pretty  little  plot, 
indeed.  I  may  as  well  let  you  know  that  I  am 
heading  my  organization  again.  My  people  have 
been  collected  by  a  lieutenant  of  mine  who  never 
ceased  working  while  I  was  in  your  county  jail. 
My  band  is  stronger  than  it  was  before,  and  we 
are  going  to  make  the  city  pay." 

"Well,   what  about  me?"   Verbeck  asked. 

"I  have  had  you  brought  here  to  show  you  in 
what  contempt  I  hold  you,"  the  master  criminal  said. 
"You  caught  me  before,  but  you'll  not  catch  me 
again!  Here  is  my  new  headquarters — take  a  good 
look.  I  suppose  you'll  be  on  my  trail  again?" 

"And  I'll  catch  you  again!"  Verbeck  cried. 

"It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  have  you  try,  Mr. 
Verbeck.  It  adds  spice  to  the  game  to  have  a 
good  foe — and  I'll  admit  that  you  are  a  good  foe.  It 
will  be  entertaining  to  outwit  you  continually,  to 
make  you  the  laughingstock  of  the  city." 

"You  tried  that  once  before,  and  I  had  the  last 
laugh!" 

"Pardon  me!  It  is  not  time  for  the  last  laugh 
yet — but  when  the  time  does  come,  I  shall  have  it!" 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  me?" 
Verbeck  demanded. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Verbeck!  Did  you  imagine  you 
were  to  be  treated  with  violence?  You  know  that 
I  abhor  violence  of  all  kinds.  I  merely  had  you 


34  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

brought  here  so  that  we  could  have  this  little  con- 
versation. I  shall  send  a  letter  to  the  newspapers 
telling  them  how  I  had  you  here  and  let  you  see 
my  new  headquarters.  That  will  give  the  city  its 
first  laugh  at  you." 

"If  I  get  the  chance,  I'll  catch  you!"  Verbeck 
declared. 

"I  intend  you  shall  have  the  chance,  my  dear 
Mr.  Verbeck.  I  shall  render  you  unconscious  again, 
and  have  you  taken  to  a  certain  place  in  the  city 
and  left  there.  When  you  regain  consciousness, 
start  on  my  trail,  if  you  can  find  it.  You  were 
unconscious  when  you  came  here,  and  will  be  when 
you  depart.  You  understand?  And  I  don't  mind 
telling  you,  Roger  Verbeck,  that  anything  done  by 
me  and  my  band  before  my  arrest  was  insignificant 
compared  to  what  we  intend  doing  now.  I  shall 
strike  within  twenty-four  hours,  Mr.  Verbeck.  You 
need  not  trouble  to  warn  the  city.  I  already  have 
sent  letters  to  the  papers  telling  them  of  my  inten- 
tion." 

"And  you  can't  get  away  with  it !"  Verbeck  ex- 
claimed. "I'll  hunt  you  down " 

"That  is  your  privilege,  Mr.  Verbeck,"  the  Black 
Star  interrupted.  "I  flatter  myself  that  I  am  a 
sportsman.  I  have  you  in  my  power  at  the  present 
moment,  and  could  keep  you  where  you  could  cause 
me  no  trouble  or  annoyance.  But  I'd  rather  have 
you  free  to  use  your  wits  against  mine.  As  I 
remarked  before,  it  will  add  spice  to  the  game. 
Heaven  knows  that  the  police  couldn't  even  make 
it  interesting  for  me !" 

"So  you  are  going  to  stagger  the  city,  are  you?" 
Verbeck  asked. 


THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS  35 

"I  am,  Mr.  Verbeck.  We  are  going  to  loot  the 
city  more  thoroughly  than  we  did  before.  We  have 
perfected  certain  plans,  and  shall  strike  soon." 

"Going  to  play  your  old  game — going  to  let  us 
know  in  advance  what  you  are  going  to  do?" 

"Possibly — at  times,"  said  the  Black  Star,  smiling. 
"And  I  feel  sure  that  this  time  there  will  be  no 
little  accident  that  will  make  it  possible  for  you 
to  take  me  into  custody.  By  the  way,  how  is  your 
man,  Muggs?" 

"In  excellent  condition,"  Verbeck  said. 

"My  compliments  to  him,  when  you  see  him 
again,  and  tell  him  for  me  that  it  will  be  a  pleas- 
ure to  clash  with  him.  In  a  way,  I  admire  Muggs. 
He  is  such  a  perfect  type  of  a  thug." 

"He  is  not  the  man  to  have  for  an  enemy." 

"Bah!  I  could  outwit  a  score  of  men  like  Muggs 
without  calling  any  of  my  organization  to  my  aid. 
Well,  Mr.  Verbeck,  I  am  afraid  that  we  shall  have 
to  terminate  this  interesting  conversation.  I  must 
get  a  little  rest,  and  confer  with  some  of  my 
people." 

He  stepped  back  to  the  wall  and  pressed  a  button. 
Immediately  the  door  opened,  and  the  two  robed 
and  masked  men  entered  the  room.  One  of  them 
held  a  vapor  gun  in  his  hand. 

Roger  Verbeck  was  well  aware  that  it  would  be 
a  losing  fight,  yet  he  fought  to  his  utmost.  But 
the  fumes  were  discharged,  the  pungent  odor  struck 
into  his  nostrils  and  filled  his  lungs,  he  was  forced 
to  gasp  for  breath — and  unconsciousness  claimed  him. 

The  last  thing  he  heard  was  the  sarcastic  laughter 
of  the  Black  Star! 


CHAPTER  IV 

OVER   THE   TELEPHONE 

"THE  chief  of  police,  notified  by  Sheriff  Kowen 
JL  that  the  Black  Star  had  been  rescued  cleverly 
by  members  of  his  band,  dressed  quickly  and  hur- 
ried to  police  headquarters,  there  to  go  into  his 
private  office  and  rave  and  fume,  and  relate  to  the 
world  that  Sheriff  Kowen  was  an  official  who  knew 
not  the  meaning  of  precaution  and  efficiency. 

"That's  what  he  gets  for  being  a  bug  on  raiding 
gambling  joints!"  the  chief  cried.  "Anybody  would 
have  known  it  was  a  plant — anybody  with  brains. 
We  fight  that  fiend  of  a  Black  Star  for  more  than 
a  year,  Roger  Verbeck  finally  lands  him,  we  convict 
the  brute  and  have  him  handed  a  stiff  sentence — 
and  then  an  idiotic  sheriff  allows  him  to  escape! 
Now  I  suppose  we  are  in  for  another  reign  of 
terror,  with  every  newspaper  in  town  telling  the 
dear  public  that  the  police  are  fit  candidates  for 
some  old  lady's  home!" 

There  was  a  lot  more  of  this,  while  captains  and 
lieutenants,  sergeants  and  roundsmen  held  their  peace 
and  hoped  that  their  superior  would  not  make  this 
an  occasion  for  reprimanding  them  for  some  fancied 
mistake.  The  chief  had  worked  his  way  up  from 
the  ranks;  he  was  endowed  with  more  brute  force 
than  intelligence,  and  he  was  a  bad  man  when 
aroused. 


OVER  THE  TELEPHONE  37 

"Call  Roger  Verbeck's  apartment,  and  get  him  on 
the  wire!"  the  chief  commanded. 

The  desk  sergeant  tried  it  immediately.  He  re- 
ported that  the  apartment  house  did  not  answer. 
The  chief  made  a  few  remarks  about  sleeping  tele- 
phone operators,  and  ordered  the  desk  sergeant  to 
try  again.  Not  getting  a  reply  immediately,  the 
chief  called  two  detectives,  ordered  them  to  hurry 
to  Verbeck's  place  and  acquaint  him  with  the  news, 
and  to  have  Verbeck  get  in  communication  with  the 
chief  at  once. 

"The  first  thing  the  Black  Star  will  do,  will  be 
to  get  hold  of  Verbeck!"  the  chief  declared.  "He'll 
probably  put  Verbeck  out  of  the  way  if  we  don't 
prevent  it.  Verbeck  caught  him  before,  and  he'll 
have  to  do  it  again.  I've  got  a  police  force  com- 
posed of  idiots,  imbeciles  and  blockheads!  They 
couldn't  catch  a  turtle  walking  across  the  street!" 

At  about  the  same  moment  the  chief  of  police 
was  indulging  in  this  tirade,  Muggs  groaned,  tried 
to  turn  over  and  found  that  he  could  not,  experi- 
enced nausea,  wondered  whether  he  was  being  taken 
down  with  some  disease — and  then  made  the  dis- 
covery that  he  was  bound  and  gagged  and  lashed 
to  the  bed. 

Having  made  that  discovery,  Muggs  forced  him- 
self to  breathe  normally,  composed  himself,  and 
tried  to  think.  The  last  he  remembered,  he  had 
retired,  started  to  fall  asleep,  and  had  dropped  into- 
the  middle  of  a  not  unpleasant  dream.  Now  it 
appeared  that  there  had  been  violence,  and  he  had! 
known  nothing  of  it. 

"Burglars !"  Muggs  thought  at  first.    "Doped  while 


38  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN1 

I  slept,  and  tied  up  like  this!  I  wonder  if  the 
boss " 

The  mere  thought  that  something  disastrous  might 
have  happened  to  Roger  Verbeck  moved  Muggs  to 
instant  action.  He  struggled  with  his  bonds,  and 
at  first  believed  that  they  could  not  be  slipped;  but 
finally  he  found  a  knot  that  gave  a  trifle,  and  he 
redoubled  his  efforts,  working  in  a  frenzy,  his 
imagination  picturing  Roger  Verbeck  robbed  and 
slain. 

After  a  time  the  knot  gave,  and  Muggs  managed 
to  get  his  hands  free.  He  removed  the  gag  and 
started  working  at  the  cords  about  his  ankles. 

"Boss!     Boss!"  he  called. 

There  came  no  answer  from  Verbeck's  room. 
Muggs  managed  to  get  off  the  last  rope,  and  sprang 
from  the  bed.  Immediately  he  reeled  and  fell  back 
again. 

"I'm — sick!"  Muggs  gasped  weakly.  "That  was — 
some  dope!  I  wonder  what  it " 

And  then  it  came  to  him. 

"I  know  that  feelin'  in  my  head  and  that  taste 
in  my  mouth!"  he  told  himself.  "Vapor  gun!  I've 
had  enough  doses  of  it  before  to  know!  The— 
the  Black  Star " 

But  the  Black  Star  was  safe  in  a  cell  in  the 
county  jail,  and  due  to  be  taken  to  the  penitentiary 
in  a  few  hours,  Muggs  tried  to  tell  himself.  How- 
erer,  Muggs  did  not  have  a  lot  of  faith  in  jails, 
having  escaped  from  them  twice  himself  before 
Roger  Verbeck  saved  his  life  and  made  a  man  of  him. 

Once  more  he  started  to  get  up  from  the  bed, 
this  time  slowly  and  cautiously.  He  did  not  ex- 
perience the  nausea  now,  and  though  he  still  felt 


OVER  THE  TELEPHONE  39 

weak,  yet  he  managed  to  stagger  across  the  room 
toward  the  door. 

He  went  into  Verbeck's  bedchamber  and  snapped 
on  the  lights.  Verbeck  was  not  there.  The  room 
was  in  confusion.  Verbeck's  clothes,  that  Muggs 
had  put  out  for  use  in  the  morning,  were  gone, 
and  his  pajamas  were  on  the  floor  in  a  corner. 

Muggs  hurried  to  the  bed.  It  was  there,  pasted 
on  the  headpiece — a  tiny  black  star! 

"If  he  hurt  my  boss "  Muggs  began,  almost 

sobbing. 

And  then  he  felt  moved  to  sudden  action  again. 
He  rushed  into  the  living  room  and  to  the  telephone. 
He  rattled  the  hook  frantically,  and  presently  heard 
the  operator's  reply. 

"I  want  the  police!"  Muggs  cried  into  the  trans- 
mitter. "Mr.  Verbeck  is  gone — been  taken  away!" 

"Say!  There  are  a  couple  of  detectives  here  now 
to  see  Mr.  Verbeck,"  the  operator  replied.  "They're 
coming  right  up!" 

Muggs  darted  back  into  his  own  room  and  began 
dressing  with  such  speed  that  he  was  almost  fully 
clothed  when  the  officers  knocked  at  the  door.  Muggs 
hurried  to  let  them  in. 

"What's  this  about  Mr.  Verbeck?"  one  of  them 
asked. 

"The  Black  Star's  got  him !"  Muggs  cried.  "They 
doped  us  while  we  slept,  and " 

"I  guess  I  can  tell  you  all  about  that,"  the  de- 
tective interrupted.  "They  put  out  the  night  clerk 
and  the  telephone  operator  with  those  cursed  vapor 
guns." 

"And   Mr.   Verbeck   is   gone!      They   must   have 


40  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

taken  him!  We've  got  to  find  him!  There's  a 
black  star — pasted  on  his  bed " 

"The  chief  just  sent  us  up  to  see  Verbeck  about 
this  business.  The  Black  Star's  gang  rescued  their 
leader  to-night — turned  him  loose.  He  left  a  note 
saying  that  he  was  going  to  raid  the  town." 

"Well,  why  stand  here  and  gas  about  it?"  Muggs 
demanded.  "Don't  you  understand  that  the  Black 
Star's  got  my  boss?  He  put  the  big  crook  in  jail 
before,  and  you  can  probably  guess  what  he'll  get 
handed  to  him  for  it  now,  if  the  Black  Star  is 
loose  I" 

"Well,  what  can  we  do?"  one  of  the  detectives 
asked.  "All  we  found  out  was  that  there  was  a  closed 
auto  out  in  front,  and  three  or  four  men  with  it. 
If  they  carried  Verbeck  away,  it's  a  wild  guess 
where  they  took  him.  This  town  has  some  size, 
remember,  and  the  Black  Star  and  his  gang  are 
smooth  customers." 

"You're  a  fine  lot  of  detectives!"  Muggs  sneered. 
"You  don't  know  what  to  do,  huh?  Expect  to  find 
him  by  standin'  around  here  smokin'  cheap  cigars? 
Why  don't  you  talk  to  headquarters  and  tell  what 
you  know  ?  Get  busy !" 

One  of  the  detectives  called  the  station  and  made 
his  report  to  the  chief.  The  police  reporters  were 
electrified  by  the  statement  that  Roger  Verbeck  had 
been  abducted  by  members  of  the  master  crook's 
organization.  At  the  time  the  Black  Star  was  ar- 
rested, he  had  sworn  to  have  vengeance  on  Verbeck, 
and  though  he  claimed  that  he  abhorred  violence, 
and  seldom  resorted  to  it,  there  were  fears  and  mis- 
givings lest  Verbeck's  body  be  found  in  some  lonely 
spot,  a  black  star  pasted  on  the  forehead. 


OVER  THE  TELEPHONE  41 

The  chief  had  not  been  idle.  Every  officer  in  the 
city  was  alert.  The  police  knew  that  the  master 
criminal  must  have  a  headquarters  somewhere,  and 
that  it  was  their  duty  to  locate  it.  Until  he  was 
under  arrest  again,  and  his  band  broken  up,  he  was 
a  constant  menace.  He  was  liable  to  strike  at  any 
part  of  the  city,  at  any  moment  of  day  or  night. 
The  blow  might  fall  upon  one  of  the  big  banks,  or 
upon  some  social  gathering  where  a  fortune  in  jewels 
could  be  obtained. 

News  of  Verbeck's  abduction  was  flashed  to  all 
officers  as  soon  as  possible.  Roads  leading  from 
the  city  were  under  guard,  and  all  vehicles  were 
being  stopped  and  their  occupants  questioned.  Ar- 
rangements had  been  made  to  quiz  real  estate  and 
rental  firms  in  the  morning,  ascertain  every  recent 
lease,  and  investigate  it.  The  chief  had  given  out 
word  that  the  headquarters  of  the  master  criminal 
had  to  be  found,  and  without  delay. 

Muggs  journeyed  to  headquarters  with  the  two  de- 
tectives, and  told  all  that  he  knew.  And  then  he 
paced  the  chief's  private  office,  raging,  begging  them 
to  do  something,  to  give  him  only  as  much  as  a 
clew  regarding  where  Roger  Verbeck  had  been  taken, 
and  he,  Muggs,  would  rescue  him  alone. 

In  vain  the  chief  attempted  to  quiet  Muggs. 

"He's  my  boss — he  ain't  yours!"  Muggs  shrieked. 
"He  saved  my  life  and  he  showed  me  how  to  make 
a  man  of  myself !  Maybe  you  don't  care  what 
becomes  of  him,  but  I  do.  And  if  that  big  crook 
harms  him,  I'll  get  Mr.  Black  Star  if  it  takes  me 
the  rest  of  my  life,  and  I'll  choke  the  life  out 
of  him  with  my  bare  hands!" 


42  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN: 

"Muggs,  we're  doing  all  that  we  can!"  the  chief 
protested. 

"What  are  you  doin'?  Yellin'  over  the  telephone 
to  a  bunch  of  cops  and  havin'  them  run  around  in 
circles  ?" 

"But  we  can't  do  anything  else!"  the  chief  cried. 
"All  we  can  do  is " 

The  bell  of  his  telephone  rang.  The  chief  whirled 
around  and  took  down  the  receiver. 

"Hello!"  he  cried. 

"Hello!"  a  man's  voice  answered.  "Well,  well, 
it  is  some  time  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  speaking 
to  you  over  a  telephone  wire,  chief." 

"Who  is  this?"  the  chief  cried.  "We're  pretty 
busy  here  to-night,  and " 

"I  suppose  that  is  all  my  fault.  Don't  you 
recognize  my  voice?  I  am  the  Black  Star!" 

"Oh,  are  you?"  the  chief  shouted.  "Well,  you 
put  one  over  on  Sheriff  Kowen,  but  we'll  pick  you 
up  before  long!" 

"You  think  so?"  the  Black  Star  asked,  laughing. 

"I  know  it,  you  crook!  We'll  get  you,  and  we'll 
get  the  men  and  women  of  that  gang  of  yours !" 

"Well,  well!  You  are  talking  violently,  chief — 
but  you  always  were  inclined  to  violence." 

"I'll  be  violent  enough  when  I  get  my  hands  on 
you,  all  right!" 

"And  I  just  called  you  up  to  give  you  some  in- 
formation. Are  you  concerned  about  Roger  Ver- 
beck?  One  of  my  men  reported  a  few  minutes  ago 
that  you  were.  You  see,  I  am  keeping  in  touch 
with  you,  chief.  I  know  every  order  you  issue, 
every  plan  you  make." 

".What  about  Verbeck?" 


OVER  THE  TELEPHONE  43 

"Don't  worry  about  him.  I  had  him  taken  to  my 
headquarters  so  I  could  have  a  little  conversation 
with  him.  Half  an  hour  ago  he  was  dropped, 
drugged,  and  unconscious,  at  the  edge  of  one  of  the 
city  parks.  No  doubt  he  will  be  with  you  soon." 

"Your  headquarters,  huh?"  the  chief  cried.  "We'll 
locate  that  little  place  within  twenty- four  hours,  if  it 
is  in  the  city!" 

"You  think  so?  I  assure  you  that  it  is  in  the 
city — and  perhaps  in  a  quarter  where  you'd  least 
expect  to  find  it.  I  scarcely  think  you  can  find  it 
inside  twenty- four  hours,  chief.  Besides,  you  are 
going  to  be  very  busy  before  then." 

"I  am,  eh?" 

"You  are,"  the  Black  Star  said.  "You  will  be 
wondering  how  we  did  it." 

"Did  what?" 

"What  it  is  that  we  are  going  to  do — the  first 
blow,  chief!" 

"Lost  your  nerve,  have  you?  You  used  to  tell 
us  what  you  were  going  to  do,  and  dare  us  to 
catch  you  at  it." 

"Chief,  your  work  is  too  coarse.  Trying  to  anger 
me  into  telling  you  my  plans,  are  you?  It  cannot 
be  done  to-night,  chief.  But  I'll  tell  you  this  much — 
we  intend  making  quite  a  haul!  Expenses  have 
been  heavy  recently,  you  know,  and  I  must  have  a 
sort  of  indemnity." 

"You'll  get  something  worse  than  that  when  we 
get  our  hands  on  you!"  the  exasperated  chief  cried. 
"You'll  go  up  for  life  when  we  catch  you!" 

"Catch  me  first!"  the  Black  Star  suggested.  "By 
the  way,  some  of  my  men  left  Muggs  bound  and 


44  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

gagged    when    they    carried    Verbeck    away.       You 
should  see  that  he  is  released." 

"He   has   been— he's   here." 

Muggs  thrust  the  chief  aside  and  grasped  the 
receiver. 

"Yes,   he's   here,    you   big   crook!"   Muggs   cried. 
"He'll   be   on   hand   when   you're    caught,    too,    and 
then  you  want  to  look  out   for  yourself!      Kidnap 
my  boss,   will  you?" 
f     "Why,  Muggs,  how  violent  you  are!" 

"You — you "       Muggs    sputtered.       "When   I 

jget  hold  of  you,  I'll  make  you  think  you  never  saw 
•or  heard  tell  of  that  violence  stuff  before!  I'll  show 
jou  some  real  violence,  you  crook!" 

"Tut,  tut,  Muggs !  You'll  be  working  yourself 
into  a  passion,  my  dear  boy.  By  the  way,  Muggs, 
tell  the  chief  that  he  need  not  bother  about  tracing 
this  telephone  call.  I  have  tapped  a  private  wire 
and  am  talking  over  it — understand?" 

A  click  came  over  the  wire,  and  it  went  dead. 
Muggs  put  up  the  receiver  and  turned  away  from 
the  desk,  growling. 

The  door  of  the  office  was  thrown  open — and 
Roger  Verbeck  hurried  in. 

"Boss !      Boss !"   Muggs   cried. 

"One  minute,  Muggs!  We  haven't  time  for  a 
demonstration  of  affection  at  present.  Well,  chief, 
he  had  me  nabbed,  and  I've  seen  the  inside  of  his 
new  headquarters." 

"Know   where   they  are?" 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  idea.  I  was  in  an  inside 
room — unconscious  when  taken  there,  and  uncon- 
scious when  they  brought  me  away.  I  came  back  to 
life  up  in  the  park,  where  they  had  dropped  me, 


OVER  THE  TELEPHONE  45 

got  a  taxi  and  hurried  here.  I  suppose  we  have  it  all 
to  do  over  again.  We've  got  to  catch  that  fiend,  of 
course !" 

"Will  you  help,  Verbeck?"  the  chief  cried.  "Will 
you  take  the  time  and  trouble?" 

"You  know  it!  Why,  the  Black  Star  challenged 
me  again — said  I  couldn't  catch  him." 

"You're  in  command,  Verbeck,  as  you  were  the 
other  time.  Any  orders  now?  Where  shall  we 
start  in?" 

"You're   having   the    roads    watched?" 

"Of  course." 

"Throw  out  the  dragnet  and  pick  up  what  you 
can.  Can't  tell — might  get  a  clew  of  some  sort, 
you  know.  Get  the  rental  agencies " 

"I've    planned    to    do    that." 

"It  probably  will  do  no  good,  but  it  won't  hurt 
any  to  try.  The  Black  Star  is  too  smooth  to  be 
caught  in  that  way.  His  headquarters  probably  is  in 
some  house  one  of  his  band  has  owned  and  occupied 
for  years." 

"He  just  called  up,"  Muggs  put  in.  "He  said 
we'd  be  busy  within  twenty-four  hours." 

"And  the  Black  Star,  as  we  know  well,  always 
keeps  his  word!"  Roger  Verbeck  declared.  "So  his 
message  probably  means  that  he  will  strike  his  first 
blow  to-morrow  night — or,  rather,  to-night.  But 
where?  And  what?  Those  are  the  questions." 

"And  all  we  can  do "  the  chief  began. 

"Is  to  wait  until  he  strikes,  and  then  take  up  the 
trail,"  Roger  Verbeck  added.  "I  found  out  one 
thing — he  has  some  new  people  in  his  organization. 
He  is  using  the  blackboards  again." 

"What's    that?"    the    chief    asked. 


46  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN. 

"Each  member  of  the  band  has  a  number  and  a 
countersign.  Each  enters  the  headquarters  room 
robed  and  masked,  and  carries  on  the  conversation 
by  means  of  the  blackboards.  The  Black  Star  issues 
his  orders  the  same  way.  He  handles  them  by 
number,  and  in  his  other  organization  the  numbers 
were  issued  by  one  of  his  lieutenants." 

"What's  the  use  of  all  that?"  the  chief  asked. 

"It  is  very  simple,  chief.  The  Black  Star  may 
know  what  Number  Eight  or  Number  Ten  does, 
but  he  doesn't  know  the  identities  of  the  persons 
with  those  numbers.  He  never  could  go  on  the 
witness  stand  and  swear  that  a  certain  member 
of  his  band  did  a  certain  share  of  the  work.  Un- 
derstand? It  is  a  protection  all  around.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  men  could  not  swear  that  the  Black 
Star  issued  the  orders — it  might  be  somebody  else 
wearing  the  master  crook's  robe  and  mask.  See?" 

"He's  a  clever  devil!"  the  chief  grunted. 

"He  is!"  Verbeck  agreed.  "We  discovered  that 
much  before,  remember.  But  we  know  his  methods 
now,  and  that  is  a  help.  We  will  not  make  the 
mistake  of  underestimating  him.  It's  all  right  to 
let  him  think  so,  and  to  talk  like  it  when  he  calls 
up  by  telephone,  but  in  truth  we  know  we're  up 
against  a  tough  proposition,  and  we've  got  to  act 
accordingly." 

"You  mean  to  say  you  think  it's  going  to  be 
a  hard  job  landing  him?"  the  chief  asked. 

"I  mean  just  that,"  said  Roger  Verbeck.  "But 
we'll  get  him!" 

"You  can  bet  we  will!"  added  Mr.   Muggs. 


CHAPTER  V 

TRAILED 

THE  morning  newspapers  had  some  very  uncom- 
plimentary things  to  say,  both  in  the  news  col- 
umns and  on  the  editorial  page,  concerning  Sheriff 
Kowen. 

The  sheriff,  who  had  had  less  than  three  hours' 
sleep,  raged  when  he  read,  and  tore  the  papers 
into  shreds. 

"That's  right — blame  me!"  he  shrieked.  "Blame 
a  man  who  was  trying  to  do  his  duty!  If  I  don't 
raid  gambling  houses,  I  get  blamed,  and  if  I  do 
raid  'em,  I  get  blamed  again.  How  did  I  know 
that  place  was  a  plant?  It  was  a  gambling  house, 
wasn't  it?" 

Since  the  sheriff  was  a  bachelor,  there  was  nobody 
in  his  apartment  to  enjoy  this  tirade.  He  went  to 
his  favorite  restaurant  for  breakfast,  and  sat  at  a 
table  far  back  in  one  corner,  refusing  to  hold  con- 
versation with  anybody  who  approached. 

The  sheriff  was  gathering  anger.  He  did  not 
intend  to  let  Roger  Verbeck  and  the  police  get  all 
the  credit  when  the  master  crook  was  caught  again. 
He  would  go  after  the  Black  Star  himself,  he  de- 
cided— swear  in  more  deputies  and  call  upon  his 
men  to  win.  There  were  certain  political  reasons 
for  this.  Moreover,  the  sheriff  was  a  conscientious 
man;  since  the  Black  Star  had  escaped  through  his 
work,  it  was  his  duty,  he  felt,  to  recapture  him. 


48  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN* 

Sheriff  Kowen  left  the  restaurant  and  walked 
toward  the  county  jail,  where  he  maintained  his 
office.  He  passed  countless  persons  he  knew,  both 
men  and  women,  and  saw  many  smiles  that  pos- 
sessed a  quality  the  sheriff  did  not  relish.  But 
he  refused  to  take  a  taxicab — he  would  show  the 
public  that  he  was  not  in  hiding! 

"If  I  ever  meet  that  Blanchard  woman  again " 

the  sheriff  told  himself;  and  just  then  he  saw  her. 

She  was  on  the  walk  a  few  feet  ahead  of  him, 
going  slowly  toward  a  department  store.  Sheriff 
Kowen  hurried  up  to  her,  touched  her  on  the  arm. 

"I  want  to  talk  to  you!"  he  said  gruffly. 

"Oh,  good  morning,  sheriff!"  she  said,  and  smiled. 

The  sheriff  was  disconcerted  for  an  instant,  but 
composure  returned  to  him  quickly. 

"We  are  only  a  block  from  the  jail,  and  my 
office,"  he  said.  "I  want  to  talk  to  you  there.  Shall 
we  walk,  or  shall  I  call  a  cab  and  charge  it  to  the 
county  ?" 

There  was  a  certain  meaning  to  the  last  sentence, 
but  she  did  not  seem  to  realize  it. 

"I  should  be  charmed  to  talk  to  you,"  she  said, 
"but  I  have  some  shopping  to  do  this  morning." 

"Your  shopping  will  have  to  wait,  young  woman. 
This  is  a  serious  business." 

"Why,  what  can  you  mean?"  she  asked. 

"Either  you  walk  along  with  me  to  my  office, 
or  you  go  as  a  prisoner!" 

"Are  you  insane?     Arrest  me?" 

"In   a   minute!"    said    Sheriff   Kowen. 

"I — I  don't  understand  this — but  I'll  go  along 
with  you,"  said  Mamie  Blanchard. 

"I  thought  you  would,"  the  sheriff  returned. 


TRAILED  49 

He  said  nothing  more  as  they  walked  down  the 
street.  He  took  her  into  his  private  office  and 
offered  her  a  chair  at  one  end  of  his  desk.  He 
closed  the  door,  telling  the  stenographer  that  he 
was  not  to  be  disturbed  for  the  present. 

"Now  kindly  tell  me  the  meaning  of  this,"  said 
Mamie  Blanchard.  "I — you  almost  frightened  me !" 

"What  do  you  know  about  the  Black  Star?" 
Kowen  asked. 

"Why,  I  read  this  morning  that  he  escaped  from 
your  jail  last  night.  You  should  be  more  careful." 

Sheriff  Kowen's  face  turned  purple  with  wrath, 
but  he  controlled  himself  and  bent  toward  her  across 
the  desk. 

"And  the  cell  he  formerly  occupied  is  now  empty," 
he  said.  "Are  you  anxious  to  inhabit  it  for  a 
time?" 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?"  asked  Mamie  Blanchard. 

"You  tipped  me  off  about  that  gambling  house. 
It  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  trap  whereby 
the  Black  Star  could  get  a  gang  of  his  men  into 
the  jail  and  free  him.  You  know  it,  and  I  know 
it,  and  it  won't  do  you  any  good  to  try  to  bluff  me!" 

"Why,  how  dare  you?     How  perfectly  silly!" 

"Silly,   is   it?" 

"I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing!  This  affair 
must  have  turned  your  brain!  I  came  in  here 
yesterday  merely  to  ask  you  if  you  required  the 
services  of  a  woman  detective.  I  always  have  wanted 
to  take  up  detective  work,  you  know.  You  told  me 
you  did  not,  and  so  I  left." 

"What  sort  of  nonsense  is  this?"  the  sheriff  cried. 

"Nonsense?  Oh,  I  am  sorry  now  that  there  was 
nobody  else  in  the  office  to  hear  me !"  And  Miss 


50  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Mamie  Blanchard  sat  back  and  smiled  at  the  official 
on  the  other  side  of  the  desk. 

"So  that's  the  way  of  it!"  Kowen  said.  "You'll 
stick  to  that  story,  will  you,  because  nobody  else 
heard  what  you  said  yesterday  ?  Woman  detective ! 
You  know  what  you  came  in  here  for  yesterday — 
to  carry  out  the  orders  of  the  Black  Star,  help 
frame  up  that  gambling-house  deal " 

"Really,  I  do  not  care  to  listen  to  any  more  such 
talk!"  Mamie  Blanchard  told  him.  "I  am  living 
with  my  mother  at  a  respectable  private  hotel " 

"And  your  brother,  the  one  who  was  going  to 
the  dogs?" 

"Oh,  I  have  no  brother  I  You  must  be  mis- 
taken, sir!" 

"You  told  me  yesterday " 

"Really,  you  are  mistaken.  You  are  confusing 
my  conversation  with  that  of  some  other  person, 
surely.  Brother?  Oh,  no,  sir!" 

Sheriff  Kowen  stared  at  her.  "You  are  a  won- 
der," he  said,  "but  I  am  afraid  that  you  can't  get 
away  with  it.  The  best  thing  for  you  will  be  tell 
me  all  you  know  about  the  Black  Star,  where  his 
headquarters  are  located,  and  what  he  has  planned 
to  do.  Do  that — and  do  it  right — and  I  may  forget 
all  about  what  happened  yesterday." 

"But  I  do  not  understand  you!  How  should  I 
know  anything  about  that  notorious  criminal." 

"Want  me  to  throw  you   into  that  empty  cell?" 

"You  dare!"  she  said,  indignantly.  "My  people 
have  money,  sir,  and  I  can  promise  you  a  damage 
suit  that,  will  give  you  food  for  thought!  Are 
you  not  ridiculous  enough  in  the  eyes  of  the  public 
already  ?" 


TRAILED  5* 

Sheriff  Kowen's  face  purpled  again  as  he  glared 
at  her.  He  did  not  doubt,  knowing  the  past  history 
of  the  Black  Star's  organization,  that  this  Blanchard 
woman  would  cause  him  trouble. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  let  you  get  away  with  it  for 
the  time  being,"  he  said.  "But  don't  thyik  for  a 
minute  that  you're  fooling  me !  You  are  a  member 
of  the  Black  Star's  gang,  and  I  know  it!  When 
we  land  him  and  the  others,  we'll  land  you,  too! 
And  you'll  get  a  nice,  long  sentence  from  the 
court !" 

Mamie  Blanchard  stood  up.  "I  do  not  care  to  be 
insulted  further!"  she  said.  "I  regret  that  there 
are  no  witnesses.  If  you  annoy  me  any  more,  I 
shall  bring  the  matter  to  my  lawyer's  attention." 

"I  suppose  he  belongs  to  the  gang  also,"  said  the 
sheriff. 

He  got  up,  too,  but  before  he  did,  he  touched 
a  button  beneath  his  desk.  It  caused  a  buzzer  to 
sound  in  another  office.  This  told  the  deputy  there 
that  the  person  leaving  the  sheriff's  private  room 
was  to  be  shadowed. 

Kowen  opened  the  door  and  bowed  his  visitor  out. 
She  held  her  head  high,  and  there  was  an  expression 
of  indignation  in  her  face.  The  sheriff  watched 
her  disappear  into  the  hall,  and  then  reached  for 
his  hat. 

On  second  thought,  Kowen  had  decided  to  shadow 
Mamie  Blanchard  himself,  assisting  his  deputy.  He 
gave  Miss  Blanchard  time  to  reach  the  street,  and 
then  he  started.  She  was  already  half  a  block 
away,  making  for  the  nearest  department  store,  and 
Kowen  saw  his  faithful  deputy  trailing  her. 

Mamie  Blanchard,  under  the  eyes  of  the  sheriff 

i 


52  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

and  deputy,  entered  the  store  and  began  making 
purchases  in  an  ordinary  manner.  Kowen  ap- 
proached the  deputy  and  engaged  him  in  low  con- 
versation. 

"That's  the  girl  that  tipped  me  off  about  the 
gambling  house,"  he  said,  "and  I  know  blamed 
well  that  she  belongs  to  the  Black  Star's  gang.  I 
tried  to  get  some  information  out  of  her  just  now, 
but  she's  pretty  wise.  We'll  keep  out  of  her  sight, 
work  independently,  and  trail  her.  She  may  lead 
us  to  the  big  crook's  headquarters." 

Mamie  Blanchard  made  purchases  at  several  de- 
partments, and  then  left  the  store.  If  she  was 
aware  that  she  was  under  surveillance,  she  did  not 
betray  it  by  her  actions.  She  visited  a  soda  foun- 
tain and  ate  ice  cream,  emerged  again,  and  finally 
engaged  a  taxicab.  Sheriff  Kowen  engaged  another, 
and  his  deputy  a  third. 

They  trailed  her  to  a  part  of  the  city  where 
were  to  be  found  houses  that  once  had  been  the 
homes  of  wealthy  persons  of  social  prominence. 
But  now  those  of  wealth  and  society  had  moved 
to  another  section,  and  these  relics  of  other  days 
were  rented  for  various  purposes.  Here  were  to 
be  found  small  shops,  cheap  boarding  houses,  palm- 
ists, clairvoyants  and  others  of  their  ilk.  Here  and 
there  were  smaller  houses  back  from  the  street, 
some  with  billboards  before  them. 

Mamie  Blanchard  left  her  taxicab  at  a  corner, 
glanced  around,  and  walked  down  the  street.  Kowen 
and  the  deputy  shadowed  her.  It  was  not  difficult 
in  this  section. 

Mamie  Blanehard   was   acting  as   if  apprehensive 


TRAILED  53 

now.  She  glanced  around  continually.  Once  she 
stood  for  several  minutes  in  front  of  a  store  window. 

"On  the  right  track!"  Sheriff  Kowen  told  him- 
self. "She's  going  to  that  crook's  headquarters, 
all  right,  and  she  wants  to  make  sure  she  isn't 
being  followed." 

He  made  a  sign  to  his  deputy,  and  they  began 
to  approach  each  other.  Mamie  Blanchard  had 
walked  on  down  the  street.  Suddenly  she  darted 
through  a  little  gate,  and  walked  swiftly  toward 
one  of  the  smaller  houses  that  sat  back  from  the 
street. 

Kowen  and  his  deputy  saw  her  go  into  the 
cottage. 

"Go  telephone  for  half  a  dozen  of  the  men," 
Kowen  ordered  the  other.  "When  they  come,  scatter 
them  around  the  block,  and  then  come  back  here  to 
me.  Either  that  house  is  the  Black  Star's  head- 
quarters, or  the  people  there  have  something  to  do 
with  him.  I'll  watph." 

The  deputy  hurried  away,  and  Kowen  kept  his 
eyes  on  the  house.  He  supposed  there  was  a  rear 
door,  but  behind  the  house  was  a  high,  blank  wall, 
and  he  knew  that  nobody  could  leave  the  place 
without  walking  directly  toward  him. 

Kowen's  heart  began  pounding  at  his  ribs.  If 
he  could  capture  the  Black  Star  so  soon  after  his 
escape,  he  would  be  the  man  of  the  hour.  He 
would  show  charity  by  calling  in  the  police  and 
Roger  Verbeck,  but  theirs  would  be  reflected  glory, 
and  Kowen  knew  it  well. 

The  deputy  returned  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour. 
Men  were  posted  behind  the  alley  wall,  he  explained, 
and  were  watching  the  house  from  the  buildings  on 


54  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN1 

either  side.  Nobody  could  get  out  without  being 
seen  and  stopped. 

"Then  we'll  go  in,"  the  sheriff  said. 

They  walked  boldly  to  the  front  door  of  the 
cottage,  and  the  sheriff  rang  the  bell.  Nobody  an- 
swered. Three  times  he  rang,  and  yet  nobody  came 
to  the  door,  nor  could  they  hear  the  slightest  sound 
inside  the  house. 

"They're  in  there,  all  right,  and  won't  answer!" 
Sheriff  Kowen  whispered  to  the  deputy.  "They 
have  spotted  us,  and  know  that  we  have  them 
cornered.  I'm  going  to  signal  for  the  other  men, 
and  we'll  break  into  the  place.  It's  stretching  the 
law  a  little,  maybe,  but  I'll  run  the  risk.  This 
isn't  like  an  ordinary  case;  we're  after  the  Black 
Star,  remember!" 

The  sheriff  gave  the  signal,  and  then  he  and 
the  deputy  remained  on  guard  and  alert  for  five 
minutes,  at  the  end  of  which  time  half  a  dozen 
more  deputies  had  come  from  near-by  buildings 
and  joined  their  superior  officer.  Kowen  explained 
the  situation  to  them  in  a  few  words. 

"And  you  want  to  be  ready  to  go  into  action!" 
he  concluded.  "If  the  Black  Star  or  any  of  his 
gang  are  in  this  house,  they'll  be  prepared  to  put 
up  a  fight,  and  don't  forget  it!  Watch  out  for  those 
vapor  guns  and  bombs!" 

The  sheriff  rang  the  bell  again,  waited  for  several 
minutes,  gave  those  inside  a  last  chance  to  come  to 
the  door.  But  he  waited  in  vain. 

"Can't  afford  to  waste  any  more  time,"  he  told 
his  men.  "We  saw  that  Blanchard  woman  go  in 
there,  and,  from  the  way  she  acted  before  she  did, 
I'm  sure  this  is  either  the  big  crook's  headquarters 


TRAILED  55 

or  where  some  of  his  people  are  living.  Every 
minute  we  wait  out  here,  we  give  them  a  chance  to 
get  ready  for  us.  Two  of  you  men  remain  outside 
and  see  that  nobody  gets  away  from  the  place;  I'll 
call  you  if  we  need  you  inside." 

Kowen  signaled  to  one  of  his  biggest  deputies. 
The  man  advanced,  put  his  shoulder  against  the 
door,  pressed  against  it. 

"Got  it  bolted,  I  guess!"  he  said. 

He  backed  away,  rushed  forward,  struck  the  door 
again  with  his  shoulder,  and  burst  the  door  open. 

Sheriff  Kowen  and  his  deputies  sprawled  into  the 
little  front  hall  of  the  cottage! 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHAT    KOWEN    FOUND 

NO  volley  greeted  them. 
There  was  no  crash  of  vapor  bombs,  no  cloud 
of  pungent  gas,  no  clash  with  desperate  and  deter- 
mined criminals  who  fought  on  behalf  of  their  leader 
and  master! 

There  was  nothing  but  silence — a  silence  broken 
only  by  the  deep  breathing  of  the  sheriff  and  his 
deputies,  who  had  sprawled  into  that  hall  expecting 
to  meet  with  instant  battle,  and  to  whom  the  un- 
explained silence  was  more  trying  than  combat. 

Again  Sheriff  Kowen  gave  a  signal,  and  one  of 
the  men  opened  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  hall. 
They  entered  an  ordinary  living  room  that  was 
adorned  with  cheap  furniture;  it  might  have  been 
the  living  room  of  the  home  of  a  family  in  moderate 
circumstances. 

They  passed  on  to  a  small  dining  room,  investi- 
gating an  ordinary  bedchamber.  Sheriff  Kowen  be- 
gan thinking  that  he  had  made  a  serious  mistake. 

"That  woman  came  in  here — and  where  is  she 
now?"  the  sheriff  said.  "Search  the  rest  of  the 
house — go  into  the  basement — don't  leave  a  corner 
untouched.  We're  in  here  now,  and  we  might  as 
well  do  our  work.  That  woman  is  here  some  place, 
remember  that.  We  saw  her  come  in,  and  she 
hasn't  left." 

They  searched  the  kitchen,  another  small  bedroom, 
and  found  nothing,  neither  a  trace  of  Mamie  Blan- 


WHAT  KOWEN  FOUND  57 

chard  nor  anything  that  would  indicate  that  the  cot- 
tage was  a  den  of  thieves.  They  located  a  trap  door, 
and  opened  it,  and  saw  a  flight  of  steps  running 
down  into  a  dark  basement. 

"Careful!"  Kowen  warned  his  men.  "They're 
probably  down  there  waiting  for  us!  We'll  not  all 
run  into  the  trap!" 

He  delegated  one  man  to  remain  above.  He 
flashed  his  electric  torch,  but  could  see  nothing  ex- 
cept the  flight  of  steps  and  the  landing  at  the  bottom. 
With  some  of  the  others  close  behind  him,  with  his 
electric  torch  in  one  hand  and  his  revolver  in  the 
other,  Sheriff  Kowen  started  to  descend  the  steps. 

Each  instant  they  expected  to  hear  the  sound  of 
a  shot,  or  the  explosion  of  a  vapor  bomb,  or  to 
encounter  one  of  the  traps  rumor  said  the  Black 
Star  always  had  in  his  headquarters.  Step  by  step 
they  descended,  but  nothing  happened. 

They  reached  the  landing,  peered  around  the  corner 
of  a  concrete  projection.  Sheriff  Kowen  gasped. 

"Careful !"  he  warned  again.  "This  is  the  head- 
quarters, all  right,  and  there  doesn't  seem  to  be 
anybody  here — but  you  never  can  tell.  Watch  out 
for  tricks  and  traps!  Be  careful  what  you  touch 
and  where  you  step.  When  he  was  after  the  Black 
Star  before,  Roger  Verbeck  found  himself  in  a 
trap  when  he  thought  he  was  boss  of  the  situation 
— don't  forget  that!" 

The  sheriff  stepped  to  the  floor,  walked  a  couple 
of  paces  away  from  the  steps.  He  saw  an  electric 
switch  on  the  wall,  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
turned  it.  The  basement  was  bathed  in  light. 

All  the  deputies  with  him  were  on  the  floor  of 
the  basement  now.  A  chorus  of  gasps  escaped  them. 


58  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

The  basement  was  not  like  the  rest  of  the  house. 
It  was  furnished  lavishly.  In  the  middle  was  a 
long  table.  At  either  end  was  a  blackboard  on  the 
wall.  There  were  half  a  score  of  heavy  chairs 
scattered  about.  There  were  some  papers  on  the 
table. 

"Watch  the  walls,"  Kowen  instructed.  "We've 
found  the  new  headquarters,  all  right.  We'll  beat 
Roger  Verbeck  and  the  police  this  time,  thank 
Heaven!  Watch  the  walls — they're  liable  to  open 
up  and  let  a  gang  of  thugs  in  on  us  any  time. 
I'm  going  to  look  at  these  papers  on  the  table." 

He  posted  his  deputies  where  he  wished  them, 
and  advanced  slowly  and  carefully  across  the  floor. 
He  was  afraid  the  floor  would  open  and  swallow 
him,  afraid  of  some  clever  trap  that  would  turn 
victory  into  defeat  and  make  him  a  laughingstock. 

He  reached  the  table  without  accident,  and  glanced 
at  the  papers  there.  There  was  no  handwriting  in 
sight.  The  papers  had  been  printed  with  tiny  rubber 
stamps.  Kowen  remembered  that  such  was  the 
Black  Star's  method. 

He  picked  up  the  nearest  and  began  reading.  His 
eyes  bulged  and  an  exclamation  escaped  him. 

"Great — great!"  he  muttered. 

For  he  was  holding  in  his  hands  some  of  the 
master  rogue's  orders  to  his  band.  Moreover,  they 
had  to  do  with  the  campaign  of  crime  the  Black 
Star  had  promised.  Kowen  read  it  swiftly: 

Number  Eleven  reports  that  all  is  in  readiness 
in  his  department.  Number  Four  will  be  at  his 
post  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  midnight. 
Number  Ten  will  have  charge  of  the  men  open- 


WHAT  KOWEN  FOUND  59 

ing  the  vault.  One  of  the  watchmen  is  a  man 
of  ours  and  will  attend  to  his  companion;  he  is 
to  be  bound  and  gagged  afterward  by  Number 
Eight,  as  we  may  need  him  again  and  do  not 
want  any  suspicion  attached  to  him.  Auto- 
mobiles will  be  at  either  end  of  the  alley.  Exit 
through  basement  door  after  work  is  done.  The 
bags  of  gold  are  tp  be  put  in  the  limousine, 
which  will  be  driven  by  Number  Twenty. 

"This  is  great!"  Kowen  told  himself  again.  "If 
we  only  can  nab  the  whole  gang " 

He  picked  up  another  sheet  of  paper,  and  started 
reading  that.  Once  more  an  exclamation  of  satis- 
faction escaped  him. 

Midnight,  Tuesday.  National  Trust  Company. 
Preliminary  work  completed.  All  who  have 
received  orders  will  act  accordingly.  Must  be 
no  failure  in  this  first  case.  Loot  will  be 
heavy. 

"Going  to  tap  the  National  Trust,  is  he?"  Sheriff 
Kowen  said.  "Well,  we'll  be  ready  for  him  at 
midnight!  He's  going  to  run  into  a  bunch  of 
trouble." 

The  chief  deputy  stepped  to  his  side.  "Suppose 
they  find  out  that  we  have  located  their  head- 
quarters," he  said. 

"Let  us  hope  they  won't  find  it  out,"  replied  the 
sheriff.  "Don't  touch  another  thing  here." 

"How   about   that   woman?" 

"That's  the  one  thing  that  puzzles  me,"  the  sheriff 
admitted.  "She  came  in  here,  and  we  didn't  see 


60  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

her  leave,  and  I  don't  see  where  she  can  be.  I 
suppose  she  came  to  get  orders,  or  something  like 
that." 

"You  can  bet  that  there's  some  other  way  to  get 
out  of  here,"  the  deputy  told  him.  "You  can  bet 
that  the  Black  Star  doesn't  let  his  gang  hang  around 
headquarters  much.  The  way  he  did  before  was  to 
have  them  show  up  one  or  two  at  a  time,  at  certain 
intervals.  He's  probably  issued  all  his  orders  and 
has  quit  for  the  day." 

One   of  the   other  deputies   startled  them. 

"Here's  a  little  trap  door — and  a  tunnel!"  he  said. 

Sheriff  Kowen  hurried  to  the  corner.  The  deputy 
had  spoken  the  truth.  There  was  a  small  trap  door 
in  the  floor,  and  when  it  was  opened  the  mouth  of 
a  narrow  tunnel  was  disclosed.  Sheriff  Kowen  issued 
his  orders  rapidly.  Into  the  tunnel  they  went,  flash- 
ing their  electric  torches,  revolvers  held  ready  for 
instant  use. 

They  followed  it  a  distance  of  a  hundred  feet — 
a  dusty  tunnel  that  twisted  like  a  serpent.  They 
came  to  another  small  door,  finally  managed  to  get 
it  open — and  stepped  through  the  thick  wall  into  the 
alley! 

"So  that  is  it!"  the  sheriff  exclaimed.  "That  is 
how  the  woman  got  away  from  the  house  without 
our  seeing  her!  Careful,  now!  We'll  go  back  and 
see  that  everything  is  as  we  found  it.  I've  got  a 
little  plan  that  will  be  a  winner!" 

Back  they  went  through  the  tunnel.  They  closed 
the  door,  saw  that  the  rugs  were  in  place  and  that 
everything  in  the  basement  was  as  it  should  be, 
and  went  up  the  flight  of  steps. 


WHAT  KOWEN  FOUND  61 

They  made  sure  that  nothing  in  the  house  had 
been  disturbed,  went  outside,  and  found  that  the 
front  door  had  not  been  much  damaged.  One  of 
the  deputies  locked  and  bolted  it  on  the  inside,  then 
got  out  through  a  window. 

"We'll  hope  that  none  of  his  gang  has  seen  us 
around  here,"  the  sheriff  explained.  "I've  got  to 
let  the  police  in  on  this,  but  we'll  get  the  credit,  all 
right.  I  haven't  men  enough!  We'll  have  deputies 
and  police  scattered  all  around  this  place  to-night, 
and  we'll  nab  anybody  that  goes  into  this  cottage, 
either  by  the  front  door  or  the  alley  tunnel.  We'll 
be  waiting  for  Mr.  Black  Star  at  the  National 
Trust  Company's  place,  too.  The  police  can  help, 
but  we'll  get  the  credit!  And  when  we  get  that 
crook  back  in  jail " 

Sheriff  Kowen  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but 
some  of  his  deputies  grinned.  They  realized  that 
the  master  crook  would  be  in  for  a  bad  hour  when 
he  was  once  more  behind  the  bars.  Sheriff  Kowen 
knew  how  to  punish  prisoners  who  tried  to  escape. 

"The  big  crook  isn't  as  clever  as  he  was  before," 
the  sheriff  said.  "I  guess  those  few  months  in 
jail  have  dulled  his  wits.  If  we  can  catch  some 
of  those  whelps  that  worked  the  game  on  us  and 
got  him  away,  I'll  be  highly  gratified.  I  won't 
need  much  help  when  it  comes  to  teaching  them  a 
lesson!" 

Once  more  his  deputies  grinned.  They  walked 
to  the  corner,  received  fresh  orders  there,  and  scat- 
tered. Sheriff  Kowen  engaged  a  taxicab  and  ordered 
the  chauffeur  to  take  him  to  police  headquarters  with 
the  greatest  possible  speed,  traffic  regulations  not- 
withstanding. 


62  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

He  found  the  chief  of  police  there,  and  Roger 
Verbeck  in  conference  with  him.  Verbeck's  big 
roadster  was  at  the  curb,  and  Muggs  was  at  the 
wheel..  Kowen  grinned  at  him  as  he  entered  the 
building. 

"So  here  you  are!"  the  chief  greeted  him.  "You've 
got  a  nerve  to  show  your  face  after  letting  the 
Black  Star  get  away  from  you!" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  Kowen  said,  smiling  at 
them.  "Have  you  gentlemen  done  anything?" 

"What  can  we  do  except  wait  until  he  pulls  off  a 
stunt,  and  then  go  after  him?"  the  chief  demanded. 

"Go  after  him  first !     That  is  what  I  did." 

"Oh,  did  you?"  asked  the  chief  mildly. 

"With  some  measure  of  success,"  said  the  sheriff 
modestly.  "I  have  discovered  the  Black  Star's  head- 
quarters. I  have  seen  some  orders  to  his  gang  that 
he  left  scattered  around  his  table.  I  found  nobody 
at  home  when  I  called,  and  have  every  reason  to 
believe  that  the  crook  and  his  gang  don't  know 
they  have  been  located." 

"Where   is  the  place?"  Verbeck  asked. 

The  sheriff  told  him. 

"Possibly  you  are  right,'*  Verbeck  said.  "But 
the  Black  Star  is  a  tricky  individual,  remember. 
And  the  orders  are " 

"At  midnight  to-night,"  said  Sheriff  Kowen,  try- 
ing to  retain  his  modesty,  "the  Black  Star's  gang 
will  try  to  loot  the  National  Trust  Company's  vaults. 
Now,  let's  get  down  to  business!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

VERBECK   INVESTIGATES 

ROGER  VERBECK  and  the  chief  looked  at  the 
sheriff  aghast.  His  announcement  had  startled 
them.  In  his  previous  career  of  crime,  the  master 
criminal  had  raided  that  establishment,  and  had  al- 
most wrecked  it  because  he  removed  so  many  assets. 

"How  do  you  know  that,  Kowen?"  the  chief 
demanded. 

The  sheriff  told  the  story,  not  sparing  himself, 
for  he  wanted  to  convince  the  men  before  him,  and 
now  that  the  recapture  of  the  Black  Star  seemed 
so  near,  he  could  afford  to  speak  the  truth. 

He  related  the  story  of  Mamie  Blanchard's  first 
visit  to  his  office,  and  of  how  he  had  trailed  her 
after  meeting  her  on  the  street 

"That  woman,"  said  Verbeck,  after  Kowen  had 
described  her  carefully,  "is  a  member  of  the  old  or- 
ganization, and  is  known  as  The  Princess.  She 
caused  us  a  lot  of  trouble  before." 

"She  certainly  did!"  the  chief  admitted.  "She  is 
almost  as  clever  as  the  Black  Star,  is  trusted  by  him, 
and  handles  a  lot  of  his  work.  We  didn't  get  her 
when  we  caught  the  Black  Star  and  smashed  his  old 
gang,  and  we  had  supposed  that  she  had  left  the 
country — possibly  had  gone  to  South  America.  She 
came  from  Brazil,  originally." 

Then  Kowen  continued  his  story,  and  told  of  find- 
ing the  papers  on  the  table  in  the  basement. 


64  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"That's  the  part  of  it  I  don't  like,"  Verbeck  said. 
"It  isn't  like  the  master  crook  to  leave  papers  like 
those  scattered  around." 

"Didn't  you  get  into  his  old  headquarters  once  and 
find  papers  and  orders  there?"  the  sheriff  demanded. 

"I  did,  I'll  admit.  But  really  I  do  not  like  the  ap- 
pearance of  this.  Describe  that  basement  room  to  me 
again,  Kowen." 

The  sheriff  did  so. 

"Well,  you  seem  to  have  described  the  room  I  saw 
last  night,"  Roger  Verbeck  said.  "Perhaps  you  are 
right;  but  I  think  we  are  assuming  too  much  when 
we  think  the  Black  Star's  people  are  not  aware  of  the 
visit  of  you  and  your  men  there.  It  would  be  more 
like  him  to  have  the  place  watched  continually." 

"It  all  looks  good  to  me,"  the  chief  put  in.  "I 
happen  to  know  that  the  National  Trust  Company  has 
a  lot  of  gold  in  its  vault  just  now — and  you  can  bet 
that  the  Black  Star  knows  it,  too.  That  organization 
of  his  is  a  wonder.  Why,  my  own  secretary  might 
belong  to  it,  for  all  I  know.  We  found  a  police  cap- 
tain in  the  old  one,  remember." 

"Well,  what  are  we  going  to  do  about  it?"  the 
sheriff  asked. 

"What  have  you  to  suggest?  It's  your  game," 
the  chief  reminded  him. 

"I've  got  to  have  the  help  of  the  police,  of  course," 
Kowen  replied.  "I  haven't  men  enough,  and  this 
job  calls  for  trained  men.  I  think  we  should  com- 
bine forces." 

"Certainly,"  the  chief  agreed. 

"We  ought  to  have  a  gang  around  the  block  that 
contains  that  cottage,  ready  to  nab  anybody  that  goes 


VERBECK  INVESTIGATES  65 

in  or  comes  out;  and  we  ought  to  be  ready  for  the 
crook  and  his  gang  at  the  National  Trust." 

"How  do  you  want  to  work  it?"  the  chief  asked. 
"Do  you  want  to  watch  the  cottage  with  your  men?" 

"I'll  send  some  of  my  men  there,  and  you  do  the 
same,"  Kowen  replied.  "And  we'll  both  have  men 
around  the  bank.  I  want  to  be  there  when  the  big 
row  comes  off.  Let's  figure  it  out!" 

"Mr.  Verbeck  is  in  command  of  this,  as  far  as  I 
am  concerned,"  the  chief  informed  him. 

"That  suits  me,"  the  sheriff  replied. 

They  spent  an  hour  perfecting  their  plans,  and  then 
the  chief  began  issuing  his  orders.  Those  orders 
went  to  officers  in  all  parts  of  the  city.  They  were 
of  such  a  nature  that  the  Black  Star,  if  some  con- 
federate reported  them  to  him,  would  not  be  exactly 
sure  what  they  meant,  except  that  the  chief  of  police 
expected  him  to  attempt  some  gigantic  crime  and 
would  have  his  men  in  readiness. 

"If  you  see  that  Blanchard  woman  again,  put  her 
in  the  jug!"  the  chief  told  the  sheriff.  "If  you  are 
afraid  of  a  suit  for  damages,  turn  her  over  to  me. 
I'm  not!  She's  The  Princess,  and  there  is  a  little 
charge  pending  against  her  right  now.  Don't  forget 
that." 

"If  I  had  arrested  her  to-day,  I  wouldn't  have 
found  the  crook's  headquarters,"  Kowen  retorted. 
"But  I'll  nab  her  if  I  see  her  again,  all  right!" 

The  sheriff,  well  pleased  with  the  arrangements 
that  had  been  made,  left  police  headquarters  and 
hurried  to  his  own  office,  to  give  orders  to  his  own 
men.  Kowen  was  exceedingly  well  pleased  with  him- 
self. Even  the  chief  of  police,  his  ancient  enemy,  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  done  the  work.  Kowen  could  see, 


66  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

in  fancy,  the  newspapers  of  the  following  morning, 
with  their  glowing  accounts  of  how,  within  twenty- 
four  hours  after  the  Black  Star's  escape,  he  had  lo- 
cated the  crook's  headquarters,  had  learned  his  plans, 
and  had  captured  him  again  and  broken  up  his  band. 
That  should  be  political  capital,  Sheriff  Kowen 
thought. 

He  reached  his  office,  called  his  chief  deputy,  and 
gave  him  instructions.  He  warned  the  man  that 
orders  should  be  issued  carefully  so  that  the  Black 
Star  might  not  learn  what  was  planned. 

"We  don't  want  to  let  that  crook  think  we  are 
wise  to  his  game,"  Kowen  said.  "If  he  does,  he'll 
simply  move  his  headquarters  and  call  off  this  little 
robbery.  Then  we'll  have  to  start  all  over  again — 
and  I  want  to  get  that  man  back  in  a  cell  before  to- 
morrow. Newspapers  and  public  jump  on  me,  will 
they?  To-morrow  they'll  be  saying  how  great  I  am!" 

The  chief  of  police  had  remained  in  his  office  to 
make  further  plans.  Roger  Verbeck  left,  and  went 
out  to  the  roadster.  He  ordered  Muggs  to  drive  to  a 
certain  corner  across  the  city.  That  meant  that  Roger 
Verbeck  had  some  deep  thinking  to  do,  for,  when  he 
had  not,  he  drove  the  big  roadster  himself.  So 
Muggs,  with  a  thousand  questions  trembling  on  his 
lips,  kept  silent,  though  he  looked  at  Verbeck  re- 
proachfully now  and  then. 

Muggs  reached  the  corner  Verbeck  had  designated, 
and  glanced  around  scornfully.  Muggs  did  not 
favor  this  section  of  the  city.  It  reminded  him  too 
much  of  certain  quarters  of  Paris  where  he  had 
existed  in  years  gone  by,  when  he  had  been  a 
criminal. 

"Wait  here,"  Verbeck  said. 


VERBECK  INVESTIGATES  67 

"Aw,  boss,  ain't  I  in  on  this?"  Muggs  protested. 

"Want  to  have  the  car  tagged  for  being  left  longer 
than  the  law  allows  on  this  street?"  Verbeck  de- 
manded. "If  I  am  not  back  in  twenty  minutes,  drive 
around  the  block  and  wait  on  the  opposite  corner — 
and  keep  that  up  until  I  do  put  in  an  appearance." 

"This  ain't  a  sweet  end  of  town,"  Muggs  said. 

"Are  you  feeling  a  certain  amount  of  alarm  for 
me,  Muggs?  Have  you  an  idea  that  I  cannot  take 
care  of  myself,  in  broad  daylight?" 

"Aw!"  Muggs  exclaimed,  in  huge  disgust. 

"You'll  get  plenty  of  action,  Muggs,  before  this 
thing  is  over,  if  that  is  what  is  bothering  you,"  Ver- 
beck said.  "What  I  am  going  to  do  just  now  calls 
for  one  man,  and  only  one." 

Verbeck  walked  down  the  street,  and  Muggs 
hunched  down  behind  the  wheel  and  glared  at  those 
who  passed. 

Verbeck  turned  the  first  corner  and  disappeared, 
as  far  as  Muggs  was  concerned.  He  journeyed  an- 
other block,  turned  another  corner,  and  so  ap- 
proached the  little  cottage  that  Sheriff  Kowen  had 
investigated.  He  walked  past  it  slowly,  and  glanced 
at  the  building.  There  was  no  sign  of  life  about  it. 

Verbeck  went  on  around  the  block  and  turned  into 
the  alley.  He  found  the  little  door  in  the  wall,  but 
there  appeared  to  be  no  way  of  opening  it  from  the 
outside.  He  hurried  on  through  the  alley  and  made 
his  way  to  the  front  again.  If  this  was,  in  reality, 
the  Black  Star's  headquarters,  Verbeck  did  not  want 
to  spoil  things  by  having  some  of  the  band  see  him 
loitering  in  the  neighborhood. 

He  returned  to  the  roadster,  told  Muggs  to  drive 


68  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN, 

him  home,  and  grinned  at  the  look  of  disgust  in 
Muggs'  face. 

"Ain't  I  in  on  this  at  all,  boss?"  Muggs  wanted  to 
know.  "Gee!  When  we  was  after  that  big  crook 
before,  you  let  me  know  everything.  Don't  you  trust 
me  no  more?" 

"Certainly  I  trust  you!"  Verbeck  told  him.  "You 
know  that  I  do !  But  why  bother  you  with  minor 
details?  In  other  words,  Muggs,  I  am  not  sure  of 
anything  yet." 

Reaching  his  rooms,  Roger  Verbeck  spent  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  reading  books,  as  if  the  Black 
Star  and  his  band  did  not  exist  and  call  for  thought. 
He  ordered  dinner  earlier  than  usual,  and  then 
dressed  in  a  plain  dark  suit,  and  put  on  a  soft  cap. 

"Into  the  roadster  again,  old  boy,"  he  told  Muggs. 
"Drive  me  to  the  same  corner." 

Muggs  did  so  gladly;  but  when  the  corner  was 
reached,  he  'was  disgusted  once  more  to  find  that 
Verbeck  wanted  him  to  remain  with  the  car. 

"I  don't  seem  to  be  nothin'  but  a  chauffeur/'  he 
complained  to  the  world  at  large.  "I  used  to  amount 
to  somethin',  but  I  guess  I  don't  any  more." 

"Muggs,  I  told  you  that  this  is  a  one-man  job," 
Verbeck  said.  "And  I  am  the  one  man !" 

He  walked  on  down  the  street,  chuckling  at  Muggs' 
grumbling.  He  passed  the  little  cottage  once  more. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  lights  inside  it.  The  yard 
about  it  was  in  pitch  darkness,  for  the  glare  of  the 
street  lights  was  cut  off  by  the  high  buildings  on 
either  side,  by  the  billboards  in  front  and  the  alley 
wall  behind. 

Verbeck  slipped  inside  the  yard.  For  a  time  he 
stood  against  the  billboard  and  listened,  and  then  he 


VERBECK  INVESTIGATES  69 

went  forward  like  a  shadow,  and  finally  reached  a 
corner  of  the  cottage. 

He  made  his  way  around  the  building,  listening  at 
doors  and  windows.  He  found  a  window  unlatched, 
and  raised  it  inch  by  inch,  without  making  the 
slightest  noise.  A  moment  later,  Roger  Verbeck  was 
inside  the  house. 

He  held  his  electric  torch  ready,  and  his  automatic. 
Not  a  sound  reached  his  ears  to  indicate  the  presence 
of  any  other  human  being  in  the  house.  Verbeck 
flashed  the  torch,  located  a  door,  passed  through  it, 
and  was  in  the  kitchen. 

There  he  found  the  door  leading  to  the  basement, 
and  listened  beside  it  for  some  time.  Then  he  opened 
it,  slowly,  cautiously,  a  bit  at  a  time.  There  was  no 
light  in  the  basement. 

Verbeck  propped  the  door  open  with  a  chair,  and 
descended  the  steps  carefully,  not  flashing  his  torch. 
He  reached  the  bottom,  listened  for  some  time,  and 
then  pressed  the  button.  The  shaft  of  light  flashed 
across  the  room. 

"Kowen  was  right — this  is  the  place!"  Verbeck 
told  himself.  "The  furniture — everything  seems  to 
be  the  same.  But  I  don't  like  it.  It  doesn't  seem 
right,  at  all.  I  never  knew  the  Black  Star  to  be 
careless  like  this  before." 

Verbeck  flashed  his  electric  torch  again  and  looked 
carefully  around  the  room.  He  even  walked  across 
to  the  table  and  read  the  orders  Sheriff  Kowen  had 
found  there.  The  house  was  being  watched  by  the 
police  and  deputies  by  this  time,  Verbeck  knew,  for 
the  men  had  received  orders  to  take  up  their  positions 
soon  after  nightfall.  The  officers  could  be  depended 
upon  to  capture  anybody  who  visited  the  cottage. 


70  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Verbeck  went  back  up  the  steps,  crept  through  the 
house,  and  got  out  through  the  window  by  which  he 
had  entered,  and  which  he  now  closed  again.  As  he 
moved  away  from  the  house,  an  officer  spoke  to  him. 

"I  thought  that  was  you,  Mr.  Verbeck,"  he  said. 
"Have  you  been  inside?" 

"Yes.  There  is  nobody  there  now,"  Verbeck  re- 
plied. "Is  the  door  in  the  alley  wall  being  watched?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  officer.  "We've  got  good  men 
scattered  all  around  the  place.  If  that  big  crook  or 
any  of  his  people  come  near  here,  they'll  be  nabbed!" 

Verbeck  hurried  up  the  street  and  sprang  into  the 
roadster,  smiling  at  Muggs'  sour  look. 

"Drive  to  police  headquarters,  Muggs,"  he  directed. 
"We'll  stay  there  until  a  little  before  midnight,  and 
then  we'll  go  to  the  National  Trust  Company  with 
the  chief  and  his  men,  and  watch  for  the  Black  Star. 
If  he  really  attempts  to  rob  that  place  to-night,  he  is 
going  to  be  caught  in  the  act." 

"I'd  like  to  get  my  two  hands  on  him!"  Muggs 
growled. 

"Perhaps  you'll  have  the  chance,"  Verbeck  said. 

"If  I  do,"  Muggs  said,  "you  can  bet  that  the  big 
crook  will  have  a  sore  throat  for  a  month!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MYSTERY    AND    AN    ALARM 

MUGGS  drove  the  powerful  roadster  slowly 
through  the  streets.  The  newsboys  were  crying 
extra  editions  of  the  evening  papers,  editions  that 
had  a  great  deal  in  them  concerning  the  master  crook 
and  his  intentions.  Verbeck  had  Muggs  stop,  and 
bought  the  papers,  and  was  glad  to  see  that  there  was 
no  inkling  of  Kowen's  discovery  in  them. 

Verbeck  did  not  feel  satisfied.  Remembering  the 
Black  Star's  methods,  he  could  not  convince  himself 
that  the  master  rogue  would  let  himself  be  captured 
again  just  as  he  inaugurated  his  campaign  of  crime. 
If  the  National  Trust  Company  was  to  be  robbed, 
the  Black  Star  would  be  there  in  person,  unless  he 
had  changed  his  tactics,  for  previously  he  always  had 
commanded  his  men  during  a  big  crime. 

But  even  the  greatest  criminals  are  wrecked  by 
trivial  accidents,  Verbeck  knew  well,  and  so  he  tried 
to  tell  himself  that  it  was  a  careless  woman  member 
of  the  band  who  had  betrayed  the  crook's  head- 
quarters and  plans.  Yet  it  was  foreign  to  the  char- 
acter of  The  Princess,  as  Mamie  Blanchard  was 
called  by  the  members  of  the  organization,  to  be 
careless. 

"Well,  we'll  know  the  truth  soon !"  Roger  Verbeck 
told  himself. 

They  reached  police  headquarters  and  went  inside. 
The  chief  was  waiting  for  them. 


72  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Everything  ready!"  he  announced.  "We're  going 
to  land  that  crook  quick  this  time!  I'm  taking  no 
chances,  you  can  bet!  I'll  have  every  available  man 
around  the  National  Trust  Company's  building.  I've 
got  some  of  them  inside  right  now,  and  in  the  ad- 
joining building,  and  there  will  be  a  crowd  in  the 
alley  and  in  the  streets." 

"I  went  up  and  took  a  look  at  that  cottage,"  Ver- 
beck  said. 

"So  that's  what  you  were  up  to!"  Muggs  put  in. 

"How  did  it  look?"  the  chief  asked. 

"Well,  I  can't  swear  to  it,  of  course,  but  that  base- 
ment room  looked  like  the  one  where  the  Black  Star 
had  me  last  night;  and  the  orders  Kowen  told  us 
about  were  on  the  table.  I  didn't  touch  them,  but  I 
read  them." 

"Let  us  hope  the  crook  doesn't  get  wise  to  the  fact 
that  we  are  on  to  him,"  said  the  chief. 

"The  chances  are,"  said  Verbeck,  "that  he  had 
completed  his  work  when  Kowen  and  his  men  got 
inside  the  house,  and  that  the  Blanchard  woman  was 
the  last  of  the  band  to  visit  there  to-day.  If  the 
Black  Star  follows  out  his  usual  method,  he'll  hurry 
back  there  after  he  pulls  off  the  robbery,  providing 
we  don't  get  him  at  the  bank." 

"And  if  he  dodges  us  at  the  bank,  the  men  will 
pick  him  up  when  he  goes  back  to  the  cottage — very 
pretty!"  the  chief  said.  "Verbeck,  I  have  an  idea 
that  we  are  going  to  win  to-night.  The  rogue's  good 
luck  has  deserted  him,  that's  all." 

The  chief  opened  a  box  of  cigars  and  passed  it 
around.  From  time  to  time  a  sergeant  came  in  to 
report  about  men  being  posted.  Now  and  then  some 


MYSTERY  AND  AN  ALARM  73 

detective  telephoned  rumors  and  information  he  had 
gathered. 

"The  streets  are  jammed,"  the  chief  said,  after  one 
of  these  telephone  calls.  "The  blamed  newspapers 
are  out  with  big  stories  of  how  the  Black  Star  tele- 
phoned them  that  he  would  start  his  campaign  of 
crime  at  midnight.  Well,  somebody  in  the  mob  might 
get  hurt,  but  it  helps  us,  in  a  way.  It  has  been  easier 
for  us  to  get  our  men  placed  without  some  of  the 
crook's  gang  reporting  the  fact  to  him." 

"Oh,  the  chances  are  that  he  knows  all  about  it," 
Verbeck  said.  "And  he  probably  doesn't  care.  The 
Black  Star  is  original,  don't  forget  that.  He'll  not 
try  to  rob  that  trust  company  in  any  usual  manner. 
He'll  get  into  the  building  with  his  men  in  some 
way  we  do  not  expect,  and  if  we're  not  on  guard  he'll 
get  out  again — with  bags  of  gold.  Did  you  inform 
the  bank  officials?" 

"Great  Scott,  no!"  gasped  the  chief.  "They'd 
light  up  the  place,  remove  the  gold,  give  the  whole 
thing  away.  We  want  to  catch  the  Black  Star.  I'll 
guarantee  that  he'll  never  get  away  with  anything 
there  to-night.  You  don't  seem  to  have  much  confi- 
dence, Verbeck." 

"I  haven't,"  Verbeck  admitted.  "I  fought  the 
Black  Star  before,  you  know.  I  can't  make  myself 
think  that  he  will  walk  into  a  trap — yet  everything 
seems  to  point  toward  it.  Well,  I'll  be  going,  I  guess. 
It  is  eleven  o'clock  now." 

Muggs  followed  him  to  the  curb,  and  this  time 
Verbeck  took  the  wheel  when  they  got  into  the  roads- 
ter. He  drove  through  the  city  and  toward  the  place 
where  he  lived,  and,  when  he  was  sure  that  he  was 


74  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

not  being  followed,  he  circled  through  the  streets  and 
approached  the  retail  section  of  the  city  again. 

Verbeck  parked  the  roadster  several  blocks  away 
from  the  National  Trust  Company.  Then  he  and 
Muggs  made  their  way  through  the  crowd  in  the 
street,  their  caps  pulled  down  over  their  eyes,  Verbeck 
hoping  that  he  would  escape  recognition. 

They  went  through  an  alley,  and  stopped  in  the 
darkness  just  before  they  reached  the  other  street. 
The  rear  of  the  trust  company  building  was  just 
opposite  them. 

"A  quarter  to  twelve,"  Verbeck  whispered.  "The 
chief  is  to  meet  us  here.  The  sergeants  know  where 
he  is  to  be  in  case  he  is  needed  quickly." 

"Why  not  get  into  the  bank  building?"  Muggs 
asked.  "Are  we  going  to  stay  here  in  the  alley  and 
let  a  bunch  of  policemen  do  this  thing?  Gee,  boss, 
ain't  we  goin'  to  handle  it  ourselves?" 

"We'll  be  right  on  hand,  Muggs,  if  anything 
starts,"  Verbeck  promised  him.  "Don't  worry  about 
that!" 

Five  minutes  later,  the  chief  found  them  there. 

"Now  for  the  big  drama!"  the  chief  whispered. 
"Everybody  is  set  and  ready.  That  master  criminal, 
as  he  calls  himself,  is  due  to  receive  the  surprise  of 
his  life  in  a  few  minutes.  I  only  hope  he  is  on  the 
job  himself — glad  to  nab  any  of  his  crowd,  of 
course,  but  he  is  the  man  we  want  in  particular." 

"Those  orders  read  'midnight,' "  Verbeck  said. 
"If  he  carries  them  out,  we  haven't  long  to  wait." 

"Got  an  idea  he  won't  carry  'em  out?"  the  chief 
asked. 

"He  may  know  that  we  are  aware  of  his  intention," 


MYSTERY  AND  AN  ALARM  75 

Verbeck  replied.  "He  isn't  fool  enough  to  walk  into 
a  trap  when  he  knows  where  the  trap  is,  you  know." 

The  chief  flashed  his  torch  and  glanced  at  his 
watch. 

"Well,  it's  three  minutes  of  midnight  now,"  he 
said.  "I  wonder  how  he'll  try  it." 

"He  certainly  will  not  walk  up  to  the  front  door 
and  break  it  down,"  said  Verbeck,  chuckling. 

"I've  got  men  in  the  basements  of  the  buildings  on 
both  sides  of  the  trust  company,"  the  chief  said.  "If 
he  tries  to  use  a  tunnel,  he'll  find  himself  caught." 

"He  came  down  from  the  sky  on  one  occasion," 
Verbeck  reminded  the  chief. 

"Look!"  Muggs  cried. 

He  had  glanced  up  at  the  sky  as  Verbeck  spoke, 
and  now  was  clutching  at  their  sleeves  and  asking 
them  to  look  up,  too.  Far  above  the  city  a  bright 
light  appeared,  a  light  that  traveled  in  circles.  It 
grew  larger  and  brighter  rapidly.  It  blazed  forth 
like  a  monster  searchlight,  and  bathed  in  splendor 
the  building  of  the  National  Trust  Company. 

"Airplane!"  Muggs  gasped. 

"Then  he's  a  long  way  up  in  the  air,"  said  the 
chief.  "An  airplane  makes  considerable  noise!  It 
isn't  an  airplane !" 

"Then  what  is  it?"  Verbeck  asked. 

"You've  got  me — but  it  isn't  an  airplane,  or,  if  it 
is,  it  must  be  a  couple  of  miles  high.  That  light 
doesn't  seem  to  be  that  high  up." 

The  crowds  in  the  street  were  yelling  and  shrieking 
now.  The  searchlight  continued  to  bathe  the  trust 
company's  building  in  brilliance.  The  police  and 
deputies  posted  around  the  corner  were  amazed. 
Sheriff  Kowen,  on  the  other  side  of  the  building,  ran 


76  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN, 

around  like  an  insane  man,  calling  upon  his  men  to 
do  something. 

The  light  was  extinguished;  and  again  it  blazed 
forth,  and  this  time  it  swept  up  and  down  the  alley, 
revealing  the  chief  and  Verbeck  and  Muggs,  and 
officers  who  had  been  posted  there. 

"The  Black  Star  has  something  to  do  with  that!" 
the  chief  said. 

"And  he's  spotted  us !"  said  Verbeck. 

'Then  we  lose,  for  he'll  not  try  to  rob  the  trust 
company." 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that!  Some  of  his  band 
may  be  in  there  now,  and  this  light,  wherever  it  is, 
may  be  to  attract  our  attention  while  other  men  carry 
away  the  loot." 

"I've  got  plenty  of  men  in  the  building,"  the  chief 
replied,  "and  they'll  flash  a  signal  the  moment  they 
see  anybody  that  doesn't  belong  in  there.  That  light 
gets  me.  How  high  do  you  suppose  it  is?" 

"It's  comin'  closer  to  the  ground,"  said  Muggs. 

Once  more  the  light  was  extinguished,  and  the 
crowds  in  the  street  grew  silent.  Again  it  blazed 
forth,  and  this  time  it  was  so  bright  and  near  that 
a  man  could  not  look  into  it. 

Then  they  heard  a  laugh,  and  the  well-known  voice 
of  the  Black  Star. 

"Hello,  chief!  Hello,  Verbeck  and  Muggs! 
Watching  the  trust  company,  are  you?  I'm  afraid 
that'll  not  do  any  good!'" 

The  chief  drew  his  revolver  and  fired  rapidly  into 
the  air.  The  Black  Star's  sarcastic  laugh  reached 
them,  and  the  light  was  extinguished  again.  The 
sky  was  black;  they  saw  nothing,  heard  nothing. 

"What  kind  of  a  thing  is  this?"  the  chief  gasped. 


MYSTERY  AND  AN  ALARM  77 

"He  wasn't  more  than  a  hundred  feet  above  us  when 
he  spoke.  What  can  it  be?  He  can't  be  in  an  air- 
plane, or  we'd  hear  the  roar  of  the  engine!" 

"And  his  band  is  probably  looting  the  vault  of  the 
trust  company  right  now,  or  has  looted  it!"  Verbeck 
said. 

He  ran  quickly  across  the  street,  and  Muggs  and 
the  chief  followed  at  his  heels.  They  knocked  on  a 
rear  door  of  the  building,  and  it  was  opened  at  once. 

"Everything  all  right?"  the  chief  asked. 

"Nothing  doing  yet,  chief,"  replied  the  detective 
who  had  opened  the  door. 

"We'll  take  a  look  and  make  sure,"  the  chief  said. 
"I  don't  like  this  business  at  all !" 

They  went  through  a  corridor  and  found  the  two 
watchmen.  They  had  the  lights  in  the  vault  room 
switched  on. 

"That  vault  hasn't  been  touched,"  Verbeck  said, 
"unless  they  have  tunneled  from  beneath.  The  door 
hasn't  been  opened." 

"That  crook  was  wise,"  the  chief  declared.  "He 
knew  that  we  were  here  waiting  for  him.  How  he 
found  it  out  is  more  than  I  can  tell — some  of  Sheriff 
Kowen's  carelessness,  I  suppose." 

A  detective  came  running  toward  them  through 
the  corridor. 

"Chief!"  he  shrieked.  "Sergeant  just  came  from 
headquarters!  He  says  that  the  Black  Star's  gang  is 
looting  the  First  National — just  got  the  alarm!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

ORDERS  AND  LETTERS 

r"PHE  forces  of  law  and  order  would  have  been  in- 
*  terested,  that  day,  had  they  watched  Mamie 
Blanchard  continually. 

When  she  entered  the  little  cottage,  she  locked  the 
door  on  the  inside,  hurried  through  the  kitchen  and 
into  the  basement,  and  entered  the  tunnel.  She  went 
through  it  quickly,  reached  the  door  in  the  alley  wall, 
listened,  opened  it,  slipped  into  the  alley,  and  slammed 
the  door  shut  again.  That  door  could  not  be  opened 
from  the  outside  unless  a  person  knew  exactly  how 
to  do  it. 

Mamie  Blanchard  hurried  through  the  alley  to  the 
street,  engaged  a  taxicab,  and  drove  to  a  certain  hotel, 
where  she  ascended  in  the  elevator  and  went  directly 
to  a  suite.  It  was  not  the  same  hotel  she  had  visited 
after  telling  Sheriff  Kowen  about  the  gambling  house, 
but  she  found  the  same  people  there — a  middle-aged 
woman  and  a  middle-aged  man. 

"Well?"  the  man  asked  gruffly. 

"Couldn't  be  better,"  said  Mamie  Blanchard. 

"What  happened?" 

"I  let  him  see  me,  and  he  took  me  to  his  office  in. 
the  jail.  Said  he  knew  that  I  was  a  member  of  the 
Black  Star's  band,  and  threatened  to  put  me  in  a  cell 
if  I  didn't  tell  all  I  knew.  I  bluffed  him,  of  course, 
and  then  he  got  the  wise  idea  of  letting  me  go  and 
trailing  me.  You  could  almost  see  it  sticking  out  on 
his  forehead."  Miss  Blanchard  stopped  to  laugh. 

"Go  on!"  the  man  commanded. 


ORDERS  AND  LETTERS  79 

"The  sheriff  and  a  deputy  trailed  me.  When  I  got 
near  the  cottage,  I  began  acting  in  a  peculiar  manner. 
I  hurried  inside,  locked  the  door,  and  went  out 
through  the  tunnel  and  the  alley.  At  the  corner,  I 
saw  the  sheriff  and  his  deputy  still  looking  at  the 
cottage." 

"Well,  you  did  your  part!"  the  man  said.  "Now 
we'll  wait  to  learn  whether  the  rest  of  the  plan 
worked  out." 

They  waited  for  half  an  hour.  Then  the  telephone 
rang,  and  the  man  answered.  When  he  hung  up  the 
receiver  and  turned  away,  he  was  grinning. 

"It  worked!"  he  said.  "Number  Ten  has  just  re- 
ported. The  sheriff  sent  for  more  men,  and  broke 
into  the  house.  They  found  the  basement  room  and 
read  the  orders,  and  they  found  the  tunnel,  too. 
Number  Ten  reports  that  the  sheriff  has  gone  to  po- 
lice headquarters." 

"And  that  means,"  said  Mamie  Blanchard,  "that 
there'll  be  half  a  hundred  cops  around  that  cottage 
to-night,  and  all  the  rest  will  be  at  the  National  Trust 
Company." 

"Exactly!  And  while  they  are  at  the  National 
Trust,  we'll  be  looting  the  First  National.  That  fake 
headquarters  did  the  trick — just  as  the  big  boss  said 
it  would !" 

"What  now,  Landers?"  Miss  Blancfiard  asked. 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  spoken  his  name. 
Like  herself,  Landers  had  been  in  the  Black  Star's  old 
organization,  and  now  was  one  of  the  master  crim- 
inal's shrewd  lieutenants.  He  had  helped  organize 
the  new  band,  and  had  engineered  the  Black  Star's 
rescue. 

"I  must  go  and  report,"  he  said.     "I'll  report  for 


8o  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

you,  too.  You'd  better  stay  pretty  close  to  this  suite 
for  a  few  days.  They'll  be  looking  for  you  now, 
you  know." 

"I  might  as  well  be  in  jail  as  be  a  prisoner  here," 
Mamie  Blanchard  pouted. 

"It's  orders !"  Landers  told  her.  "You'll  be  needed 
again  soon,  and  needed  badly." 

Landers  left  the  hotel,  engaged  a  taxicab,  and 
drove  out  along  the  river  road  until  he  came  to  a 
resort.  He  paid  the  chauffeur  there,  and  walked 
along  the  shore,  watching  the  bathers,  acting  like  a 
prosperous  man  on  a  little  holiday. 

But  after  a  time  he  left  the  resort  and  walked  on 
along  the  road.  He  turned  into  a  lane,  when  he  was 
sure  that  he  was  not  being  observed,  and  approached 
a  ramshackle  farmhouse  that  was  hidden  in  a  grove. 

Landers  entered  the  house,  went  down  a  flight  of 
steps  to  the  basement,  and  stopped  in  a  little  room. 
There  he  put  on  a  long  black  robe  and  his  black 
mask,  and  touched  a  button.  In  the  distance  a  bell 
tinkled.  Then  a  buzzer  sounded,  and  Landers  opened 
the  door  and  stepped  into  the  Black  Star's  head- 
quarters. 

The  master  rogue  was  sitting  at  one  end  of  the 
table.  He  got  up  and  stepped  to  the  nearest  black- 
board. Landers  went  to  the  one  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room,  and  picked  up  the  chalk. 

"Number  One,"  he  wrote. 

"Countersign?"  wrote  the  Black  Star. 

"Amboy." 

"Report!"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 

Landers  turned  to  the  blackboard  and  wrote 
rapidly. 

"Sheriff    decoyed    to    fake    headquarters.      Decoy 


ORDERS  AND  LETTERS  81 

escaped  in  manner  planned.  Sheriff  broke  in  and 
found  room  in  basement.  Number  Ten  reported  to 
me  that  everything  was  left  as  it  was,  and  that  sheriff 
went  immediately  to  police  headquarters." 

"Good,"  wrote  the  Black  Star. 

"Any  further  orders?" 

"Act  to-night  in  accordance  with  the  orders  given 
you  yesterday,"  the  Black  Star  wrote.  "That  is  all." 

Landers  bowed,  and  backed  from  the  room.  He 
took  off  mask  and  gown  and  hung  them  up,  put  on 
his  hat  and  gloves,  and  made  his  way  from  the  house 
and  into  the  lane  again.  Once  more  he  was  the  pros- 
perous gentleman  enjoying  a  day  in  the  woods  and 
along  the  river. 

Back  in  the  old  farmhouse,  the  Black  Star  was 
receiving  another  report,  this  time  by  telephone. 

"Number  Eight,"  said  the  voice. 

"Countersign?"  asked  the  Black  Star. 

"Harvard!" 

"Well?" 

"I  have  been  in  communication  with  Number 
Twelve,  who  is  in  police  headquarters.  Sheriff 
Kowen  went  there  and  held  a  conference  with  the 
chief  and  Roger  Verbeck.  They  fell  hard  for  that 
fake  headquarters  stunt.  They  are  planning  to  watch 
the  place  to-night,  and  all  officers  not  there  will  be 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  National  Trust  Company, 
where  they  expect  us  to  strike." 

"Very  good!"  the  Black  Star  said.  "You  have 
your  orders  for  to-night?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Carry  them  out.     There  is  nothing  new!" 

The  master  rogue  hung  up  the  receiver,  put  the 
telephone  away  in  a  secret  niche  in  the  wall,  and  sat 


82  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN; 

down  at  the  end  of  the  long  table  again.  A  man  en- 
tered with  a  tray  containing  luncheon,  and  the  Black 
Star  removed  his  mask  and  ate.  The  servant  was  a 
member  of  the  old  organization,  and  took  part  in  no 
crimes — it  was  not  necessary  for  the  Black  Star  to 
wear  a  mask  in  his  presence. 

Having  eaten,  the  master  criminal  stretched  him- 
self on  a  couch  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  and  slept. 
It  was  dusk  when  he  awakened.  He  ate  again,  and 
as  he  finished  the  little  bell  on  the  wall  jangled.  The 
Black  Star  put  on  his  mask,  and  touched  a  button. 

The  robed  and  masked  man  who  entered  was  small. 
He  went  directly  to  the  blackboard. 

"Number  Sixteen,"  he  wrote. 

"Countersign?" 

"Providence." 

"Report!" 

"First  National  received  shipment  of  currency  to- 
day as  expected,"  the  other  wrote. 

"What  amount?" 

"Three  hundred  thousand." 

"What  else  have  you  to  report?" 

"One  of  the  watchmen  is  our  man,  and  he  will  at- 
tend to  the  other.  Number  Twenty  has  investigated 
the  vault,  and  reports  that  he  can  open  it  in  twelve  or 
fifteen  minutes." 

"How  about  transportation?"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 

"One  limousine  and  three  closed  autos;  all  has 
been  arranged." 

"Good!"  the  Black  Star  wrote.  "That  is  all — 
except  I  want  no  mistakes  made  to-night." 

The  other  man  left  the  room.  The  master  criminal 
touched  a  bell  button,  and  the  servant  entered. 


ORDERS  AND  LETTERS  83 

"Has  the  mechanic  reported?"  the  Black  Star 
asked. 

"Yes,  sir.  The  machine  is  in  perfect  working 
order,  sir.  He  will  test  it  further  after  dark." 

"Very  well.  I  want  him  to  be  ready  to  start  about 
eleven  thirty,  perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  sooner 
than  that." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  servant  bowed  and  left  the  room.  The  Black 
Star  took  paper  out  of  a  drawer,  and  a  box  of  rub- 
ber stamps,  and  began  composing  a  letter  that  was 
to  cause  the  chief  of  police,  the  sheriff  and  Roger 
Verbeck  much  chagrin  before  morning. 

To  those  poor  fools  whom  it  most  concerns: 
I  was  amused  at  the  manner  in  which  you 
guarded  the  little  cottage  so  well.  That  fake 
headquarters  was  placed  there  in  order  to  have 
you  send  all  officers  to  the  National  Trust 
Building.  I  understand  it  fooled  even  Roger 
Verbeck.  You  may  place  all  the  blame  on  the 
sheriff,  since  he  responded  so  well  to  my  decoy. 
While  you  guard  the  National  Trust,  I  shall  be 
looting  the  First  National  of  the  shipment  of 
currency  it  received  to-day.  It  is  the  first  blow 
in  my  campaign.  And  when  you  learn  that  I 

am  looting  it,  and  rush  there,  I  shall But 

you  will  know  what  by  the  time  you  read  this 
note. 

The  Black  Star  put  the  folded  note  into  an  en- 
velope, and  addressed  it  to  the  chief  of  police.  Then 
he  composed  another  to  be  mailed  to  a  prominent 
newspaper. 


84  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

I,  the  Black  Star,  begin  my  campaign  to-night. 
Three  nights  from  now,  I  and  my  men  shall  steal 
certain  jewels  and  art  objects  that  are  famous. 
You  may  guess  what  they  are,  and  where. 
Guard  all  jewels  and  objects  of  art  in  the  city, 
if  you  wish,  but  that  will  not  prevent  us  from 
getting  them.  ***** 

The  Black  Star  put  the  letter  into  an  envelope, 
addressed  it,  and  then  put  both  letters  into  one 
of  his  pockets.  He  glanced  at  his  watch,  and  took 
off  his  robe,  but  retained  the  mask.  He  donned  a 
heavy  ulster,  and  rang  for  the  servant  again. 

"Tell  the  mechanic  to  be  ready  in  ten  minutes,"  he 
said. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"After  I  have  left  the  house,  throw  on  the  pro- 
tecting current,  and  do  not  turn  it  off  unless  you  get 
the  proper  signal." 

"I  understand,  sir." 

"The  wires  were  tested  this  afternoon?" 

"Yes,  sir;  everything  is  in  excellent  condition." 

"Good!"  said  the  Black  Star. 


CHAPTER  X 

A    DOUBLE     CRIME 

AT  a  quarter  of  twelve  that  night,  a  man  walked 
rapidly  through  the  alley  behind  the  First  Na- 
tional Bank.     He  knocked  on  the  basement  door  of 
the  building  adjoining.     The  door  was  opened  by  a 
watchman. 

"Everything's  all  right,"  the  watchman  reported. 
"Did  you  attend  to  that  other  fellow?" 
"He'll  sleep  for  a  couple  of  hours  yet." 
"Fine  work.     You  are  to  disappear  after  this,  of 
course.     Go  to  the  hiding  place  arranged   for  you, 
and  you  will  be  sent  ample  funds.     You  are  not  to 
attempt  to  leave  the  city  until  you  get  orders  to  do 
so.     Understand?" 

"Sure.     I  know  my  business,  all  right." 
"You'd  better!     The  boss  is  going  to  be  mighty 
strict  during  this  campaign  of  his.     The  man  who 
makes  a  mistake  or  disobeys  orders  won't  last  very 
long.     Where  are  the  robes?" 

The  watchman  opened  a  box,  took  out  a  robe,  and 
handed  it  over.  The  other  man  put  it  on  quickly, 
affixed  the  mask,  and  started  toward  a  door  that 
opened  into  the  basement  of  the  bank  building  ad- 
joining. At  the  door,  he  turned  again. 

"Let  the  others  in,  and  tell  them  that  they  are  to 
hurry,"  he  told  the  watchman.  "They'll  give  the 
usual  signal,  of  course.  Hand  them  their  masks  and 
gowns." 


86  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

He  opened  the  door  and  hurried  into  the  other 
basement,  went  up  a  flight  of  steps,  unlocked  another 
door,  and  was  on  the  first  floor  of  the  bank. 

Down  in  the  basement,  the  watchman  admitted 
other  men  who  arrived  two  minutes  apart,  until 
twelve  in  all  were  in  the  building,  and  gave  them 
robes  and  masks.  They  hurried  into  the  other  base- 
ment and  up  the  stairs,  and  took  up  their  positions. 

Some  guarded  the  stairways  that  led  to  the  second 
floor.  Others  were  scattered  around  the  first  floor, 
watching  the  doors  and  windows.  Two  hurried  into 
the  vault  room. 

The  shades  had  been  drawn  at  all  the  windows, 
and  were  fastened  securely  at  the  sides  and  bottoms 
so  that  no  light  could  be  seen  from  the  outside.  An 
electric  torch  was  flashed  on  the  door  of  the  vault, 
and  held  there,  and  one  of  the  men  began  working 
on  the  lock  with  tools  taken  from  beneath  his  robe. 

"It's  a  cinch!"  he  whispered.  "The  more  intricate 
they  are,  the  easier  it  is  to  open  them.  I  didn't  work 
once  in  a  safe  factory  for  nothing!" 

Save  for  the  rasping  of  tools  against  steel  and  the 
heavy  breathing  of  the  man  who  worked,  there  was 
silence  in  the  vault  room  and  in  the  rest  of  the  build- 
ing. Presently  there  came  a  sharp  click,  the  work- 
man gasped  his  satisfaction  and  stood  up.  The  big 
door  was  pulled  open. 

Both  men  hurried  inside  the  vault.  They  began 
stuffing  packages  of  bills  into  canvas  bags  which  had 
been  in  the  box  with  the  robes. 

"That's  all!"  one  of  them  whispered  to  the  other. 
"The  boss  said  for  us  not  to  bother  with  securities  or 
any  of  the  small  stuff.  We'll  go!" 

"We'd  better,  or  they'll  be  on  us  in  another  min- 


A  DOUBLE  CRIME  87 

ute,"  the  other  man  replied  nervously.  "When  you 
opened  that  door  you  sent  in  an  alarm." 

"And  it  went  to  a  protective  agency  where  the  man 
on  night  duty  is  one  of  us,"  the  other  replied,  chuck- 
ling. "He'll  have  to  give  out  the  alarm,  of  course, 
but  by  the  time  he  gives  it  out,  we'll  be  far  away. 
What  time  is  it  now?" 

"Twelve  thirty." 

"Just  right!  Send  the  signal  to  the  others.  The 
lieutenant  is  standing  by  the  window  at  the  end  of 
the  hall." 

A  hiss  escaped  the  man's  lips,  and  was  carried  and 
echoed  through  the  building.  The  men  gathered  in 
the  corridor,  the  lieutenant  made  sure  all  of  them 
were  there,  and  then  they  descended  into  the  base- 
ment, and  passed  from  it  to  the  one  adjoining. 

"Signal  for  the  autos,"  the  watchman  was  ordered. 
"Then  make  your  own  get-away.  And  be  sure  you 
remember  all  that  you've  been  told.  Obey  orders!" 

The  watchman  stepped  into  the  dark  alley,  and 
flashed  an  electric  torch  five  times.  A  chauffeur  at 
the  mouth  of  the  alley  counted  the  flashes,  and 
honked  his  horn.  A  procession  of  four  automobiles 
started  through  the  alley. 

They  did  not  stop,  but  merely  slowed  down,  and 
into  each  machine  sprang  the  men  who  had  been  as- 
signed seats  there.  The  automobiles  continued 
through  the  alley  and  turned  into  the  next  street, 
where  the  chauffeurs  put  on  speed. 

There  were  few  persons  in  that  particular  section 
of  the  city  at  the  time,  but  those  who  were  on  the 
street  saw  the  automobiles  filled  with  robed  and 
masked  men.  They  knew  what  that  meant — that  the 
Black  Star's  band  was  working  in  the  vicinity.  Their 


38  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN. 

terror  kept  them  dumb  until  the  automobiles  had  dis- 
appeared, and  then  they  gave  the  alarm.  They  knew 
that  there  was  but  one  thing  in  that  section  that 
would  attract  the  master  crook — and  that  was  the 
vault  of  the  old  First  National.  The  alarm  went  to 
police  headquarters. 

A  few  blocks  down  the  street,  the  automobiles 
scattered,  and  one  by  one  made  their  way  to  dark 
parts  of  the  town,  where  the  men  in  them  took  off 
their  robes  and  masks,  and.  one  by  one,  left  the 
machines  and  darted  awav. 

The  band  was  scattered  fifteen  minutes  after  the 
vault  had  been  looted,  and  one  machine,  a  closed  one, 
was  running  out  along  the  river  road  toward  the  re- 
sort. The  chauffeur  drove  in  a  leisurely  manner,  and 
the  car  attracted  no  undue  attention. 

At  the  end  of  the  lane  running  to  the  old  farm- 
house, where  it  was  pitch  dark,  the  door  of  the  closed 
car  was  opened,  and  a  man  sprang  out.  The  auto- 
moble  went  on  along  the  river  road.  The  man  who 
had  jumped  from  it  carried  two  canvas  bags  stuffed 
with  currency.  He  was  Landers,  the  Black  Star's 
trusted  lieutenant. 

Landers  hurried  along  the  lane,  entered  the  grove 
about  the  house,  and  took  a  telephone  from  its  hiding 
place  behind  a  clump  of  brush.  He  called  the  house, 
and  the  servant  who  remained  on  guard  at  the  head- 
quarters answered. 

Landers  gave  a  password,  then  put  the  telephone 
away  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  came  to  the  wire 
fence  that  ran  around  the  house,  but  he  did  not  touch 
it.  He  knew  that  it  was  charged  with  a  deadly  cur- 
rent. A  light  flashed  in  a  window,  and  Landers 


A  DOUBLE  CRIME  89 

opened  the  gate  and  went  on  to  the  house.  He  dis- 
appeared inside.  His  work  for  the  night  was  done, 
except  that  he  had  to  turn  in  the  swag. 

But  the  Black  Star  and  his  band  were  not  done  for 
the  night.  The  men  who  had  left  the  automobiles 
and  scattered,  immediately  made  their  way  to  the  Na- 
tional Trust  Company's  building,  and  lost  themselves 
in  the  throng  of  people  there.  They  bumped  elbows 
with  policemen  and  deputies  and  detectives,  and 
grinned  when  they  recognized  one  another  in  the 
crowd. 

They  were  in  time  to  hear  the  alarm  given,  and  to 
see  policemen  spring  into  automobiles  and  hurry 
away.  They  saw  Muggs  drive  through  the  crowd, 
and  Roger  Verbeck  spring  into  the  roadster  and 
start  for  the  First  National  Bank.  Word  flashed 
through  the  crowd  that  the  master  rogue's  band  was 
looting  the  First  National,  and  the  crowd  melted 
away  like  snow  beneath  a  blazing  sun,  hurrying  to- 
ward the  scene  of  the  robbery. 

One  by  one,  and  cautiously,  the  Black  Star's  men 
entered  the  alley  behind  the  National  Trust  Com- 
pany's building.  Here,  too,  a  basement  door  was 
opened  for  them  by  a  watchman.  Once  more  they 
put  on  masks  and  gowns  from  a  supply  that  was  in 
readiness,  and  posted  their  guards  in  the  building. 
Once  more  two  selected  men  hurried  into  the  vault 
room. 

They  began  their  work  on  the  door  of  the  vault; 
and  suddenly  the  Black  Star  himself  appeared  before 
them,  his  face  masked,  the  flaming  star  of  jet  on  the 
hood  of  his  robe. 

"Make  it  as  quick  as  possible!"  he  ordered.     "We 


90  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

don't  want  to  be  here  too  long.  Did  things  go  all 
right  at  the  other  place?  Was  the  get-away  good?" 

"Everything  went  off  as  planned,  sir,"  one  of  the 
men  reported.  "The  work  was  done  to  the  minute, 
and  the  get-away  was  as  you  had  ordered,  sir." 

"Disguise  your  voice  when  you  speak  to  me,  you 
fool!"  the  Black  Star  said.  "And  hurry  with  that 
vault!  We  can't  spend  all  night  getting  inside  that 
box!" 

The  rasping  of  tools  against  steel,  the  heavy  breath- 
ing of  the  workman  told  that  the  man  was  doing  his 
best  to  hurry.  But  the  vault  of  the  National  Trust 
Company  was  a  complicated  affair,  and  it  was  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  door  finally  was  swung 
open. 

"Lively,  now !"  the  Black  Star  commanded.  "Those 
bags  of  gold  are  what  we  want — and  all  we  want  here 
at  this  time.  Get  them  to  the  rear  door  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  signal  for  the  autos.  All  you  men  get 
busy !" 

The  masked  and  robed  members  of  the  band  car- 
ried the  heavy  bags  from  the  vault,  hurried  through 
the  corridor  with  them,  went  down  the  stairs,  and  to 
the  basement  door. 

The  Black  Star  watched  the  work.  When  it  was 
completed,  he  walked  across  the  room  to  the  nearest 
telephone,  took  down  the  receiver,  and  gave  the  num- 
ber of  police  headquarters. 

"Is  the  chief  there?"  he  asked. 

"He's  here,  but  he's  busy.  What  do  you  want 
with  him?  Who  is  this?"  the  desk  sergeant  de- 
manded. 

"I  think  he'll  talk  to  me,  all  right.  This  is  the 
Black  Star  talking." 


A  DOUBLE  CRIME  91 

There  was  an  exclamation  at  the  other  end  of  the 
wire,  and  presently  the  chief  spoke. 

"Hello!    This  is  the  chief!" 

"This  is  the  Black  Star!  Did  my  new  searchlight 
puzzle  you  a  bit  to-night,  chief?  When  you  know 
the  secret  you'll  be  more  startled  than  puzzled.  Did 
you  wonder  where  my  voice  came  from,  and  how  I 
happened  to  be  in  the  air  just  over  you?  Maybe  you 
got  the  idea  that  I  was  putting;  on  a  ventriloquist's 
act." 

"We'll  get  you,  you  fiend!"  the  chief  cried  angrily 
into  the  transmitter. 

"Why,  chief,  how  violent  you  sound!  I  am  afraid 
you  are  working  yourself  into  a  passion." 

"You  got  away  with  it  this  time,  but  you'll  not  do 
it  again.  And  you  had  to  lie  to  do  it  this  time!" 

"Indeed?    How  is  that?" 

"You  used  to  boast  of  what  you  were  going  to  do, 
and  dare  us  to  catch  you  at  it,  and  you  always  told 
the  truth  in  those  days.  You  must  be  losing  your 
nerve.  You  said,  you  crook,  that  you  were  going  to 
rob  the  National  Trust — and  then  you  went  after  the 
First  National." 

"Oh,  that  was  just  a  little  job  on  the  side!"  the 
Black  Star  said.  "I  told  you  no  falsehood,  chief.  I 
said  that  I  would  rob  the  National  Trust,  and  that  is 
exactly  what  I  have  done.  I  am  speaking  from  the 
vault  room  of  the  National  Trust  this  very  minute.  I 
have  just  removed  several  bags  of  gold  coins!" 

"What's  that?"  the  chief  cried. 

"I  am  leaving  a  letter  here  in  the  vault  room  for 
you,  chief,  and  have  just  mailed  another  to  a  certain 
newspaper.  You'd  better  come  right  over  here  and 
get  your  letter,  chief.  And  thanks  so  much  for  rush- 


92  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

ing  all  your  silly  policemen  over  to  the  First  National 
when  you  got  the  alarm,  so  they  would  not  bother  my 
men  here.  It  was  very  thoughtful  of  you!" 

The  Black  Star  laughed,  and  put  up  the  receiver. 
He  laid  the  letter  addressed  to  the  chief  in  the  middle 
of  the  table,  and  pasted  little  black  stars  around  the 
room  on  the  marble.  He  ran  to  a  rear  window  and 
saw  three  automobiles  passing  through  the  alley.  In 
them  were  his  men,  he  knew,  and  also  the  gold  coin 
taken  from  the  supposedly  impregnable  vault  of  the 
National  Trust. 

The  Black  Star  laughed  again,  went  to  the  stairs, 
and  began  mounting  them,  flight  by  flight,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  laugh  at  a  bound  and  gagged  watch- 
man. Presently  he  reached  the  roof  by  means  of  a 
trap  door.  He  closed  the  door  again,  and  fastened  it 
securely.  Then  he  took  an  electric  torch  from  his 
pocket,  and  flashed  a  signal  toward  the  sky. 

He  removed  his  robe,  rolled  it  up,  put  it  beneath 
his  arm.  He  picked  up  his  heavy  ulster  from  the 
roof,  where  he  had  left  it  before  descending  into  the 
bank,  and  put  it  on. 

Once  more  he  pointed  the  electric  torch  upward  and 
flashed  a  signal.  Then  he  touched  match  to  cigarette, 
walked  to  the  edge  of  the  building,  and  glanced  over. 

He  heard  the  sirens  of  police  automobiles  in  the 
distance.  He  saw  the  machines  stop  and  policemen 
spring  from  them.  He  watched  as  they  gained  en- 
trance to  the  building,  saw  a  crowd  gathering  in  the 
street  below.  The  Black  Star  chuckled  again,  took  a 
vapor  bomb  from  the  pocket  of  his  ulster,  and  hurled 
it  at  the  street.  It  struck,  exploded,  and  a  cloud  of 
white,  pungent  vapor  drifted  across  the  pavement. 


A  DOUBLE  CRIME  93 

Shrieks  and  cries  of  alarm  reached  his  ears.  He  saw 
one  policeman  stagger  and  fall,  overcome  by  the  gas. 

The  Black  Star,  still  chuckling,  walked  back  to  the 
middle  of  the  roof.  He  flashed  another  signal,  and 
then  returned  the  torch  to  his  pocket. 

He  laughed  again — and  waited! 


CHAPTER  XI 

MORE      MYSTERY 

POLICE  headquarters  was  thrown  into  a  turmoil 
for  the  second  time  that  night  when  the  chief  re- 
ceived the  master  criminal's  telephone  message. 

Roger  Verbeck  and  Muggs  rushed  for  the  roadster, 
sprang  in,  and  drove  like  mad  through  the  streets  to- 
ward the  National  Trust  Company's  building. 

The  chief  shrieked  his  orders,  officers  tumbled  into 
department  automobiles,  and  followed  Verbeck.  They 
reached  their  destination,  and  sprang  out.  Verbeck 
already  had  ascertained  that  the  front  doors  of  the 
bank  were  locked  and  bolted.  He  rushed  around  to 
the  alley,  followed  by  Muggs,  the  chief,  and  a  dozen 
officers.  A  detective  hurried  to  telephone  Sheriff 
Kowen. 

The  basement  door  was  open,  and  they  rushed  in- 
side. They  found  the  watchman  bound  and  gagged 
— he  was  a  member  of  the  Black  Star's  band,  but 
they  needed  him  again,  and  so  made  the  attempt  to 
remove  all  suspicion. 

"The  Black  Star!"  he  gasped  when  they  had  re- 
moved the  gag  and  bonds.  "He  was  here  with  his 
gang!  They  carried  out  gold — went  away  in  autos 
and " 

Verbeck  had  rushed  on  to  the  vault  room.  The 
chief  and  some  of  the  others  followed.  They  found 
the  door  of  the  vault  standing  open,  money  scattered 
on  the  floor,  papers  in  confusion. 


MORE  MYSTERY  95 

"He  cleaned  out  all  the  big  stuff!"  the  chief  said. 
"One  of  you  men  telephone  the  president  of  the  trust 
company  and  tell  him  to  hurry  down  here." 

"Here's  the  letter  he  mentioned,  chief,"  Verbeck 
said. 

The  chief  ripped  it  open  and  read  it,  then  thrust  it 
into  one  of  his  pockets.  As  he  turned  away,  there 
was  a  sharp  explosion  in  the  street,  then  a  bedlam  of 
shrieks  and  cries.  They  rushed  to  a  window  and 
threw  it  open. 

"Bomb !"  somebody  in  the  street  was  shouting.  "It 
came  from  the  roof!" 

"One  of  that  crook's  gas  bombs!"  the  chief  ex- 
claimed. "On  the  roof,  is  he?" 

Verbeck  already  was  running  toward  the  stairs, 
with  Muggs  just  behind  him,  determined  to  be  in 
the  midst  of  the  affair.  Muggs  had  been  complain- 
ing again  that  he  was  not  playing  a  principal  part 
in  this  drama,  and  that  he  felt  he  was  entitled 
to  one. 

Half  a  dozen  officers  took  after  them,  the  chief 
bellowed  orders  and  posted  guards  throughout  the 
bank.  He  sent  other  men  to  the  floors  above  to 
release  the  watchmen.  And  then  he  followed  Roger 
Verbeck,  running  up  the  stairs,  puffing  and  panting, 
wishing  that  the  elevator  was  running. 

They  came  to  the  little  steel  stairs  that  led  to 
the  trapdoor  and  the  roof.  Verbeck  tried  to  open 
the  door,  and  found  that  it  was  fastened  on  the 
outside. 

"Either  the  Black  Star  or  some  of  his  men  are 
up  there!"  Verbeck  said.  "The  door  wouldn't  be 
locked  on  the  outside,  otherwise." 

One    of    the    detectives    had    procured    a    fire    ax 


96  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

from  the  hall  on  the  floor  below.  He  ran  up  the 
steel  stairs  and  attacked  the  heavy  door  vigorously. 
The  chief  sent  a  man  for  another  ax. 

More  officers  had  come  up  the  stairs  now,  and 
stood  at  the  bottom  of  the  steel  steps,  waiting  for 
the  trapdoor  to  be  opened. 

"As  soon  as  we  get  through,  rush  up  there  and 
go  at  them,"  the  chief  directed.  "We  don't  know 
how  many  are  up  there,  so  be  ready  to  mix  it! 
Shoot,  if  you  have  to,  but  get  him  alive  if  you 
can.  And  look  out  for  vapor  guns  and  gas  bombs!" 

"Somebody  on  the  roof  is  asking  for  you,  chief!" 
the  man  with  the  ax  called  down. 

The  chief  hurried  up  the  steps.  "Well,  who  is  it?" 
he  demanded. 

"This  is  the  Black  Star.  Can't  you  recognize 
my  voice?  Still  practicing  violence,  I  see,  and  this 
time  on  a  door!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  want?"  the  chief  cried. 
"Do  you  want  to  give  yourself  up?" 

"Certainly  not,  my  dear  chief.  I  just  wanted 
to  let  you  know  that  I  was  here." 

"And  we're  going  to  get  you!"  the  chief  cried. 
"If  it  is  necessary  we'll  get  you  with  a  gun!  If 
you  start  using  that  vapor  stuff  when  we  get  the 
door  open,  my  men  will  shoot.  Understand  that? 
I'll  give  you  one  minute  to  surrender  and  open  the 
door !" 

"Why  on  earth  should  I  do  such  a  thing  as 
that?"  the  Black  Star  wanted  to  know. 

"Because  you  are  at  the  end  of  your  rope, 
that's  why!"  the  chief  replied.  "If  you  try  to  go 
down  a  fire  escape,  you'll  be  plugged.  And  that's 
the  only  way  you  can  get  off  the  roof." 


MORE  MYSTERY  97 

"I  have  no  intention  of  going  down  a  fire  escape," 
the  Black  Star  replied.  "I  give  you  my  word  of 
honor — or  dishonor,  if  you  prefer  it  that  way — 
that  I  shall  descend  no  fire  escape  to-night.  Does 
that  satisfy  you?" 

"Are  you  going  to  give  yourself  up?" 

"Dear  me,  no!  I  couldn't  think  of  it.  I  have 
had  a  very  pleasant  evening,  chief — very  pleasant 
indeed — and  profitable,  also.  By  the  way,  did  you 
get  your  letter?" 

An  exasperated  chief  descended  the  steps  and 
motioned  for  the  detective  to  go  to  work  with  the 
ax  again.  The  heavy  blows  began  raining  against 
the  door.  Between  them,  they  could  hear  the  Black 
Star  laughing. 

"Get  through  that  door!"  the  chief  shrieked. 
"We've  got  him  in  a  trap!" 

"I  wouldn't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  Roger 
Verbeck.  "He  seemed  to  speak  with  confidence." 

"But  how  can  he   get  away?" 

"The  Black  Star  used  to  be  noted  for  doing 
some  peculiar  and  seemingly  impossible  things," 
Verbeck  reminded  the  chief. 

"I  want  to  be  the  second  man  through  that 
door!"  Muggs  said.  "I  got  it  comin'  to  me,  boss. 
You  ain't  let  me  do  a  thing  to-day,  and  I  want  to 
get  my  hands  on  that  big  crook!" 

"That's  what  we  all  want  to  do,"  the  chief 
remarked.  "Get  ready,  men;  that  door  will  be 
open  in  a  minute !" 

The  detective  had  succeeded  in  cutting  a  hole 
in  it.  Now  he  put  his  face  close  to  the  aperture 
and  looked  out.  He  could  see  nothing  but  darkness. 
Cautiously,  he  extended  a  hand  and  felt  for  the 


98  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

bolt,  located  it,  shot  it  back.  He  whispered  the 
news  to  those  behind  him.  The  officers  crowded 
the  steel  stairs,  and  Muggs  got  well  in  the  van. 
Muggs  declined  to  be  sidetracked  longer. 

The  detective  threw  the  door  open,  and  they 
stumbled  up  the  steps  and  to  the  roof,  their  weapons 
held  ready,  to  dart  to  either  side,  expecting  a  shot, 
or  a  vapor  bomb  at  least. 

Their  electric  torches  flashed,  and  the  roof  was 
bathed  in  light.  There  was  nothing  behind  which  a 
person  could  hide,  except  two  chimneys.  The  officers 
approached  the  chimneys,  carefully,  ready  for  in- 
stant combat.  They  circled  them — and  found  nobody. 

"He's  here — got  to  be  here!"  the  chief  cried. 

They  rushed  to  all  the  fire  escapes  and  found 
that  nobody  was  on  them.  They  shouted  to  officers 
in  the  street  below,  and  were  told  that  the  fire  escapes 
had  not  been  used.  They  searched  every  square 
foot  of  the  roof,  looked  along  the  parapet,  found 
nobody. 

"I  tell  you  that  crook's  got  to  be  here!"  the 
chief  shouted.  "How  could  he  get  away?" 

"Airplane,"   one   of  the  detectives  suggested. 

"Don't  be  an  ass!"  the  chief  shrieked.  "An 
airplane  makes  a  lot  of  noise.  And  it  wouldn't 
be  easy  to  pick  up  a  man  from  a  roof  in  the  dark, 
you  fool !  The  only  way  it  could  be  done  would 
be  to  trail  a  rope  and  let  him  grab  it,  and  that 
would  mean  a  dead  man  on  the  pavement  below. 
You  ass,  an  airplane  travels  with  speed!" 

"Well,  he  doesn't  seem  to  be  here,"  Verbeck 
offered. 

"But  where  could  he  have  gone?"  the  chief  cried. 


MORE  MYSTERY  99 

"Even  the  Black  Star  can't  make  himself  invisible 
at  will!" 

Then  they  heard  the  Black  Star  laugh  derisively. 

They  flashed  their  torches  and  again  searched  the 
roof.  Once  more  they  heard  the  laugh.  Now  it 
seemed  to  be  to  one  side  of  them,  and  now  to 
another.  Above  them,  behind  them,  in  front  of 
them  they  heard  it. 

"This  thing  will  drive  me  crazy!"  the  chief 
cried.  "Flash  those  torches  again!  That  crook 
is  somewhere  right  here  on  the  roof!  Look  for 
another  trapdoor!" 

They  searched  the  roof,  and  found  nothing;  but 
again  they  heard  the  laugh,  only  it  sounded  far  away 
now.  Suddenly  the  roof  was  bathed  in  bright  light 
that  seemed  to  come  out  of  the  sky. 

"He's  up  there — on  something!"  the  chief  shrieked. 

They  emptied  their  revolvers  and  automatics  to- 
ward the  sky.  The  light  died  out,  flashed  forth 
again  and  almost  blinded  them.  Once  more  they 
heard  the  sarcastic  laugh  of  the  Black  Star,  as  if 
far  in  the  distance — and  then  the  light  was  gone. 

They  stood  silent,  looking  upward.  Not  the 
slightest  sound  came  to  their  ears,  except  echoes 
of  the  shouts  in  the  street  below,  where  people  were 
wondering  about  the  peculiar,  blinding  light. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  the  chief  cried.  "Verbeck, 
what  has  that  devil  done?'' 

"I  haven't  the  faintest  idea,"  Roger  Verbeck  re- 
plied. "I  don't  understand  that  laugh,  and  I  can't 
imagine  where  that  light  comes  from.  I'd  think 
naturally,  that  it  was  an  airplane,  but,  as  you  said, 
it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  pick  a  man  off 


ioo  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

the  roof  at  night — and  an  airplane  makes  a  lot  of 
noise.  And  we  didn't  hear  a  sound — remember  that !" 

Once  more  the  voice  of  the  Black  Star  reached 
their  ears.  He  seemed  to  be  shouting  to  them,  and 
to  be  not  so  very  far  away. 

"Good  night,  gentlemen!"  he  called  to  them.  "It 
has  been  a  splendid  evening  of  amusement  and  profit. 
Good  night — and  let  me  express  the  hope  that  you'll 
have  pleasant  dreams !" 

That  was  all.  Though  they  waited  on  the  roof 
for  half  an  hour  longer,  they  heard  nothing  more 
from  him,  saw  nothing  of  him,  and  finally  they 
turned  and  went  back  down  the  stairs,  puzzled,  angry, 
but  determined  to  make  the  master  rogue  pay. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ANOTHER    TELEPHONE    CALL 

THE  newspapers  the  following  day  were  full  of 
the  exploits  of  the  Black  Star.  They  explained 
that  the  master  crook  had  inaugurated  his  campaign 
of  crime  and  revenge  by  looting  two  of  the  richest 
financial  institutions  in  the  city.  From  the  First 
National  his  men  had  obtained  more  than  three 
hundred  thousand  dollars  in  currency.  From  the 
vault  of  the  National  Trust  Company  had  been  taken 
a  quarter  of  a  million  in  gold  coin. 

Banking  officials  were  frantic.  They  made  ar- 
rangements to  safeguard  their  property,  fearing  to 
lose  the  confidence  of  their  depositors.  They  en- 
gaged extra  watchmen,  men  they  knew  personally, 
since  to  engage  a  stranger,  no  matter  how  good  his 
references,  might  be  to  put  one  of  the  Black  Star's 
men  in  the  place. 

Sheriff  Kowen  and  his  deputies  were  blamed, 
the  chief  and  his  policemen  were  declared  imcom- 
petent  and  inefficient,  and  Roger  Verbeck  and  Muggs 
were  held  up  to  ridicule. 

The  mysterious  light  that  had  come  out  of  the 
sky  was  described  at  length,  and  many  speculations 
made  as  to  its  nature.  The  scene  on  the  roof  of 
the  building,  told  by  one  of  the  detectives,  was 
played  up,  and  there  were  many  conjectures  as  to 
what  it  meant. 


102  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Had  the  master  criminal  come  into  possession 
of  some  wonderful  new  invention?  Was  he  able 
to  escape  when  and  as  he  liked?  Some  inclined  to- 
ward this  belief,  and  others  declared  that  the  Black 
Star  had  gone  down  a  fire  escape  under  the  noses 
of  the  officers,  entered  the  building  through  a  win- 
dow at  some  floor,  walked  down  the  stairs  and 
emerged  into  the  alley  and  gone  his  way.  The 
Black  Star,  one  paper  stated,  was  a  mere  man  and 
did  not  call  upon  the  supernatural  to  aid  him.  He 
merely  had  better  brains  than  the  police. 

Where  would  he  strike  next? 

Within  three  days,  he  had  said  in  his  letter  to 
one  of  the  papers,  he  would  steal,  with  the  aid  of 
his  band,  jewels  and  famous  objects  of  art.  Thou- 
sands of  persons  had  valuable  jewels,  and  it  was 
well  known  that  the  master  criminal  was  a  gem 
fiend,  that  he  had  a  great  collection  and  gloated 
over  them.  Perhaps  he  meant  a  jewelry  establish- 
ment, a  wholesale  diamond  house. 

When  it  came  to  famous  objects  of  art,  there 
was  a  wealth  of  them  in  the  city.  Two  millionaires 
had  great  collections.  There  was  a  famous  museum 
that  housed  several  hundred  priceless  paintings.  Here 
and  there  throughout  the  city  were  others. 

Jewels  were  carried  to  safe-deposit  vaults.  The 
guards  at  the  museum  were  doubled.  The  two 
millionaires  obtained  police  protection  for  their  resi- 
dences. And  the  city  waited. 

Two  days  passed,  during  which  nothing  was  heard 
of  the  Black  Star  and  his  band.  Sheriff  Kowen 
and  his  deputies  searched  in  vain  for  Mamie  Blan- 
chard.  Roger  Verbeck  and  Muggs  drove  about  in  the 
big  roadster  continually,  watching  people,  trying  to 


ANOTHER  TELEPHONE  CALL  103 

catch  a  glimpse  of  some  known  member  of  the 
Black  Star's  old  organization. 

The  city  was  gone  over,  block  by  block,  in  an 
effort  to  locate  the  master  crook's  headquarters,  but 
to  no  avail.  The  search  extended  to  the  suburbs, 
but  nobody  thought  of  the  old  farmhouse  far  up 
the  river  near  the  pleasure  resort. 

"Well,  it's  about  time  we  heard  from  him  again!" 
the  chief  said  to  Verbeck  on  the  morning  of  the' 
third  day. 

"I  look  for  him  to  strike  to-night,"  Verbeck  said. 

"And  where  do  you  think  he'll  strike?" 

"That  is  the  puzzle,"  Verbeck  admitted.  "I 
scarcely  think  he  will  attempt  the  museum.  It  would 
be  a  blow  to  civic  pride  if  he  did  and  succeeded,  of 
course,  but  the  odds  would  be  against  him." 

"He  seems  to  thrive  on  odds  that  are  against 
him,"  the  chief  replied. 

"Sooner  or  later,  we'll  get  him!"  Verbeck  declared. 
"Sooner  or  later  one  of  his  people  will  make  a  slip 
that  will  give  us  the  clew  we  need.  They  can't  keep 
it  up  forever." 

"But  I  want  to  land  him  right  away!"  the  chief 
fumed.  "Did  you  happen  to  read  the  morning 
paper?  If  this  sort  of  thing  keeps  up,  the  mayor 
will  be  asking  for  my  resignation,  and  I'll  go  out 
of  office  without  having  vindicated  myself.  Con- 
found Kowen,  anyway!  Why  couldn't  he  keep  the 
crook  when  he  had  him?  But  for  Kowen,  the  Black 
Star  would  be  doing  time  in  the  big  prison  right 
now !" 

"But  he  isn't — and  it  doesn't  do  any  particular 
good  to  wail  about  it,"  said  Verbeck.  "The  thing 
to  do  is  to  get  him  again.  Made  any  plans?" 


104  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I'm  up  in  the  air!"  the  chief  complained.  "What 
plans  can  I  make?  I've  got  men  guarding  the 
museum,  and  those  millionaires'  residences,  and  a 
few  scattered  near  the  jewelry  establishments.  And 
I'll  hold  men  ready  to  go  to  any  section  of  the  city 
when  we  get  an  alarm.  That  is  all  I  can  do.  If 
we  knew  where  he  was  going  to  strike " 

A  buzzer  sounded,  and  the  chief  took  up  the 
telephone. 

"Hello!"  he  called. 

"That  you,   chief?" 

"Yes." 

"Ah,  good  morning.  This  is  the  Black  Star!  I 
have  tapped  a  private  line  again,  chief,  to  have  a 
little  chat  with  you!  I've  been  resting  for  a  couple 
of  days,  giving  my  men  and  women  a  holiday.  But 
I'm  eager  to  be  busy  again!" 

"When  I  get  my  hands  on  you "  the  chief 

began. 

"Tut,  tut!  Why  do  you  always  grow  violent 
when  I  do  you  the  honor  of  calling  you  up?" 

"Honor?  Insult,  you  mean!  We'll  get  you, 
and  get  you  good,  one  of  these  days!" 

"I'll  have  all  the  wealth  in  town  if  you  delay 
it  very  long,"  said  the  Black  Star  laughing.  "By 
the  way,  chief,  I'd  suggest  that  you  keep  a  lot  of 
your  men  at  headquarters  to-night.  You  are  going 
to  need  them." 

"Think  so?" 

"I  know  it!  And  I  have  a  faint  idea  that  the 
newspapers  are  going  to  say  more  naughty  things 
about  you  to-morrow.  That  was  a  pretty  grilling 
the  Herald  gave  you,  wasn't  it?" 

"I'll   give   you  a   grilling  when   I   get  my   hands 


ANOTHER  TELEPHONE  CALL  105 

on  you!"  the  chief  said.  "So  you're  going  to  pull 
off  some  sort  of  a  stunt  to-night,  are  you?" 

"I  am.  Inaction  bores  me,  chief.  My  men  are 
eager  to  get  to  work  again.  They  take  great  pleas- 
ure in  helping  outwit  the  stupid  men  on  your  force." 

"We'll  see  who'll  do  the  final  outwitting!"  the 
chief  cried.  "I'm  going  to " 

"Going  to  get  me,  I  think  you  said  before.  Sorry 
to  dispute  you,  chief,  but  I  can't  agree.  How  do 
you  expect  to  accomplish  it?" 

"Tell  me  one  thing,"  said  the  chief.  "How  did 
you  get  off  that  roof,  and  where  did  you  go?" 

"Sorry,  but  that  is  a  sort  of  state  secret  for  the 
present,"  the  Black  Star  replied. 

"Well,  if  you  didn't  go  down  one  of  the  fire 
escapes,  write  a  letter  to  the  newspapers  and  say  so. 
They're  swearing  that  you  walked  right  out  of  that 
building  before  our  noses." 

"All  right,  chief,  I'll  inform  the  papers  that  I 
did  nothing  of  the  kind.  But  I'll  not  explain  at 
this  time  just  what  I  did  do.  You  see,  I  might 
want  to  do  it  again  soon." 

"If  you  are  so  blamed  sure  of  your  ability,  why 
not  tell  me  what  you  are  going  to  do  to-night  ?'r 

"Gladly  chief.  I  am  going  to  collect  some  jewels 
and  some  objects  of  art." 

"Oh.  are  you?"  asked  the  chief.  "Going  to  collect 
them  in  any  particular  spot?" 

"Naturally;  but  I  do  not  intend  to  tell  you  the 
spot  just  now.  That  would  be  running  too  much 
of  a  risk,  I  am  afraid.  By  the  way,  is  Mr.  Verbeck 
there?" 

"He  is!" 

"I    haven't   time   to   speak   to   him,    but    will   you 


jo6  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

kindly  tell  him  for  me  that  I  hope  he  shows  more 
speed  in  this  little  duel  with  me.  I  was  disgusted 
with  him  the  other  evening — he  showed  no  clever- 
ness at  all.  Tell  him  that  I  hope  he  improves. 
And  now,  chief,  I  must  end  the  conversation  for 
the  time  being." 

There  was  a  click  at  the  other  end  of  the  wire. 
The  chief  slammed  the  receiver  into  its  hook  and 
whirled  around  in  his  chair. 

"Wanted  me  to  tell  you  to  show  more  cleverness 
and  make  the  game  more  interesting,  Verbeck,"  the 
chief  said.  "Make  it  interesting  for  him  if  we 
get  the  chance,  all  right!  Says  he's  going  to  collect 
jewels  and  objects  of  art  this  evening." 

"Then  I  suppose  he'll  do  it,"  Verbeck  said.  "Have 
your  men  ready  to  jump  out  as  soon  as  the  alarm 
comes  in.  What  is  the  sheriff  doing,  chief?" 

"Kowen?  Sleeping  on  the  job,  I  suppose.  He 
swears  that  he  and  his  deputies  will  catch  the 
Black  Star — beat  us  to  it.  I  had  a  row  with  him 
yesterday  at  luncheon.  Kowen  makes  me  tired! 
He's  looking  for  that  Blanchard  woman." 

"The  Princess?  He's  not  likely  to  find  her," 
Verbeck  said.  "Either  the  Black  Star  has  sent  her 
out  of  the  city,  or  she  is  in  hiding  some  place  where 
she'll  not  be  located  easily.  You  can  wager  that  the 
Black  Star  takes  good  care  of  The  Princess — she  is 
one  of  the  most  valuable  members  of  his  band!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

INSIDE     THE     MUSEUM 

THAT  afternoon,  about  the  hour  of  three,  an 
elderly  gentleman  who  looked  like  a  person  of 
culture  and  refinement,  entered  the  Municipal 
Museum. 

At  the  information  desk,  he  asked  concerning  a 
certain  painting,  and  was  directed  to  the  second 
floor.  He  thanked  the  woman  at  the  desk  and 
ascended  the  stairs,  passing  the  close  scrutiny  of 
the  guards  and  the  police  stationed  there.  There 
was  nothing  to  cause  suspicion  in  the  appearance 
of  an  elderly  man  who  evidently  was  a  lover  of  art. 

He  found  the  painting  for  which  he  had  asked, 
and  stood  before  it  for  some  time,  looking  at  it, 
now  stepping  forward  and  now  retreating,  now  and 
then  walking  to  one  side  to  get  a  better  reflection 
of  light  on  the  canvas. 

"Marvelous !"  he  said,  in  a  thin  voice,  to  one  of 
the  attendants.  "Such  coloring!  And  such  technic!" 

"Yes,  them  old  boys  knew  how  to  sling  the  paint," 
the  attendant  informed  him. 

"Sling  the  paint?  What  a  quaint  idiom!"  the 
elderly  gentleman  remarked  and  the  attendant  walked 
on,  calling  upon  the  world  to  witness  that  the  crop 
of  maniacs  was  getting  larger  every  year,  and  that 
they  all  visited  the  museum. 

Having  inspected  that  particular  picture  to  his 
evident  satisfaction,  the  elderly  gentleman  went 


io8  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN. 

through  the  galleries,  viewing  other  famous  paint- 
ings. All  the  attendants  and  guides  noticed  him  and 
put  him  down  as  a  harmless  art  lover.  There  was  a 
benevolent  appearance  about  him;  he  appeared  to  be 
the  sort  of  man  who  makes  donations  to  museums 
and  hospitals. 

He  finally  made  his  way  to  the  statuary  hall. 
Here,  at  the  time,  there  was  but  one  guide,  and 
he  was  handling  a  group  of  four  tourists.  The 
elderly  gentleman  gave  them  scant  attention.  He 
adjusted  his  spectacles  and  began  viewing  the  statue 
nearest  the  door,  finished  with  that  and  went  on 
to  the  next,  and  to  the  next.  The  guide  and  his 
tourists  left  the  hall — and  the  elderly  gentleman  was 
alone  there. 

He  walked  quickly  to  the  other  end  of  the  hall, 
turned  and  looked  back  at  the  door,  and  made  sure 
that  he  was  not  observed  by  any  of  the  attendants 
or  visitors. 

Above  his  head  there  was  a  small  trapdoor  that 
opened  into  the  attic  of  the  building.  The  elderly 
gentleman  betrayed  agility  remarkable  for  his  years. 

He  sprang  to  the  nearest  window  ledge,  sprang 
again  and  grasped  the  heavy  molding,  hung  with 
one  hand,  and  with  the  other  pushed  up  the  trap- 
door. Then  he  pulled  himself  up  and  disappeared — 
and  the  door  was  put  back  in  place. 

The  attic  was  seldom  entered,  it  appeared.  There 
was  nothing  at  all  stored  there,  and  the  dust  was 
inches  deep  everywhere.  The  elderly  gentleman  made 
his  way  carefully  through  this  dust,  obliterating  his 
tracks  behind  him,  and  reached  a  corner  of  the  attic, 
near  a  window.  Here  was  a  dark  space  in  a  gable, 


INSIDE  THE  MUSEUM  109 

large  enough  to  accommodate  a  hiding  man.  The 
elderly  gentleman  sat  down  there. 

"This  will  be  the  death  of  me !"  he  growled. 
"Dust  and  heat  and  foul  air!  I  wish  the  Black 
Star  had  picked  some  one  else  for  this  part  of 
the  job!" 

He  took  out  a  handkerchief  and  tucked  it  around 
the  edge  of  his  collar,  then  stretched  himself  be- 
tween the  rafters. 

"Can't  smoke — dare  not  sleep,"  he  grunted.  "And 
it'll  be  hours  before  I  can  get  out  of  here.  This  is 
one  sweet  game  I'm  playing!  But  there'll  be  a 
handsome  profit  in  it,  all  right!" 

The  hours  passed.  In  the  big  museum  below 
visitors  came  and  went,  passing  beneath  the  scrutiny 
of  the  guards  and  the  police.  Five  o'clock  came, 
and  the  rooms  were  cleared.  Guards  searched  them 
well,  made  sure  nobody  was  inside  the  building 
except  those  who  had  a  right  to  be  there.  The 
custodian  and  his  assistants  left.  The  big  doors 
were  locked.  Night  guards  and  policemen  remained, 
walking  through  the  rooms.  Down  in  the  basement 
an  engineer  threw  a  big  electric  switch  that  sent  a 
powerful  current  through  the  frames  that  guarded 
the  priceless  objects  of  art. 

Much  had  been  made  of  that  scheme  of  protection 
in  the  newspapers.  When  that  current  was  turned 
on,  any  person  touching  one  of  the  paintings  would 
be  rendered  unconscious  immediately.  Moreover,  an 
alarm  would  be  sounded  in  the  building,  another 
flashed  to  police  headquarters,  another  to  the  sheriff's 
office. 

"The  Black  Star  will  never  tackle  this  place,"  said 
one  of  the  policemen  to  a  guard.  "He's  going  after 


no  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

something  else.  His  gang  couldn't  get  near  the 
building  without  the  men  outside  spotting  them, 
and  we  could  put  up  a  scrap  and  keep  them  out 
until  help  came  from  headquarters." 

"I  think  he'll  tackle  the  private  collection  of  some 
millionaire,"  replied  the  guard.  "I  don't  see  how 
he  could  hope  to  get  in  here  and  get  away  with 
anything." 

Outside  the  building,  police  paced  beats  beneath 
bright  lights  that  illuminated  every  door  and  window. 
Inside,  more  police  and  the  regular  museum  guards 
talked  and  smoked  and  wished  the  long  night  was 
over. 

Up  in  the  attic,  a  perspiring  elderly  gentleman, 
who  was  elderly  no  longer  because  he  had  removed 
a  very  clever  wig,  and  perspiration  had  ruined  his 
make-up,  looked  at  the  radium  dial  of  his  watch 
and  grunted  that,  at  last,  the  time  had  come.  It 
was  nine  o'clock. 

He  got  up  and  made  his  way  slowly  and  carefully 
across  the  attic  through  the  dust  to  the  trapdoor. 
He  lifted  it  a  fraction  of  an  inch  and  looked  down. 

The  statuary  hall  was  dark  save  for  a  small 
incandescent  light  that  glowed  in  the  wall  near  the 
door.  No  guard  or  policeman  was  in  sight,  and 
the  door  leading  to  the  corridor  was  closed. 

The  trapdoor  was  opened  wide,  and  the  man 
dropped  to  the  floor,  making  not  the  slightest  sound 
as  he  struck.  He  had  removed  his  shoes  in  the 
attic,  and  had  put  on  a  pair  of  rubbers.  He  darted 
behind  a  statue,  and  listened,  and  wiped  the  per- 
spiration from  his  face. 

Then,  running  lightly  from  statue  to  statue,  he 
made  his  way  toward  the  corridor  door,  watching 


INSIDE  THE  MUSEUM  in 

it  continually,  ready  to  dart  into  hiding  if  it  should 
be  opened  by  guard  or  policeman. 

At  the  door,  he  stopped  again  to  listen,  and  then 
he  turned  the  knob  and  opened  it  cautiously.  There 
was  nobody  in  the  corridor  as  far  as  he  could  see 
in  either  direction.  The  guards  and  policemen,  it 
was  evident,  were  on  the  floor  below. 

He  took  one  of  the  Black  Star's  vapor  guns 
from  his  pocket  and  held  it  ready.  He  slipped  into 
the  corridor,  darted  into  a  niche  in  the  wall,  listened 
again.  He  could  hear  two  policemen  talking  on  the 
floor  below. 

A  guard  entered  the  corridor  and  disappeared  into 
one  of  the  rooms.  The  man  in  the  niche  waited 
until  he  came  out  and  started  down  the  hall.  The 
guard  passed  within  three  feet  of  him.  The  silent 
vapor  gun  was  discharged,  the  guard  gasped  and 
started  to  cry  out,  but  unconsciousness  claimed  him. 

The  man  who  had  used  the  vapor  gun  drew  the 
unconscious  guard  back  into  the  niche.  He  used  a 
hypodermic  needle  on  the  guard's  arm,  drugging 
him  so  that  he  would  remain  senseless  for  some  time 
to  come. 

"No  need  to  worry  about  you  for  a  few  hours," 
he  growled. 

Still  he  waited,  going  to  another  niche  on  the 
other  side  of  the  wide  corridor.  Another  guard 
came  from  the  floor  below  and  started  along  the 
hall.  He  received  the  same  treatment  the  first  guard 
had  received. 

Then  the  man  who  held  the  vapor  gun  hurried 
through  the  corridor  and  came  to  the  head  of  the 
wide  staircase. 

"Ten   men    inside,    and    I've   taken   care   of    only 


H2  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

two  of  them,"  he  growled.  "The  boss  certainly 
gave  me  my  share  of  work  to  do  in  this  little  affair!" 

He  saw  two  policemen  sitting  at  the  bottom  of 
the  stairs.  He  saw  a  guard  in  the  distance,  another 
just  emerging  from  one  of  the  rooms  on  the  floor 
below. 

"Where  are  George  and  Fred?"  he  heard  the 
guard  ask. 

"Went  to  the  second  floor,"  one  of  the  policemen 
replied. 

"Guess  I'll  go  up  and  help  them,  and  then  we 
won't  have  to  bother  about  the  second  floor  until 
early  in  the  morning.  Get  the  card  table  ready, 
and  we'll  have  a  little  game.  Nothing  to  worry 
about.  Looks  to  me  as  if  the  Black  Star  didn't 
intend  to  come  here.  I  guess  the  boys  on  the  out- 
side would  let  us  know  if  there  was  any  danger." 

The  guard  started  up  the  stairs,  and  the  man 
lurking  at  the  top  darted  into  the  first  niche  and 
crouched  there  in  the  semidarkness.  The  guard 
passed,  the  vapor  gun  was  exploded,  and  the  guard 
toppled  forward  as  had  the  others,  and  was  drugged 
as  the  others  had  been. 

"Seven  more,  and  the  engineer,"  growled  the 
Black  Star's  man. 

Once  more  he  went  to  the  head  of  the  stairs. 
Four  policemen  were  putting  out  a  collapsible  card 
table.  Two  guards  were  approaching  along  the  cor- 
ridor. The  seventh  member  of  the  protective  squad, 
the  Black  Star's  man  knew,  was  at  the  front  door, 
where  the  officers  outside  could  see  him.  He  was 
supposed  to  show  himself  there  at  the  end  of  each 
hour,  to  let  them  know  that  everything  was  all  right 
inside. 


INSIDE  THE  MUSEUM  113. 

The  Black  Star's  man  darted  through  the  corridor 
and  went  softly  down  the  rear  stairs.  He  made  his 
way  through  the  hall  toward  the  front.  He  knew 
where  the  light  switch  was  located;  he  had  found 
this  out  several  days  before,  when  preparing  for  this 
night's  events. 

He  reached  the  switch,  jerked  it  down,  and 
plunged  the  lower  floor  in  darkness.  He  darted  for- 
ward as  he  heard  the  exclamations  of  the  six  men 
in  front.  He  dropped  behind  a  statue  just  as  one 
of  the  policemen  flashed  his  electric  torch. 

"Fuse  out,  I  suppose,"  he  heard  one  of  the  guards 
say.  "I'll  get  the  engineer — he  attends  to  all  that 
stuff." 

He  hurried  toward  the  basement  entrance.  The 
man  at  the  front  door  merely  shouted  to  know  what 
was  the  matter,  and  remained  at  his  post. 

The  five  others  were  clustered  about  the  card 
table.  The  Black  Star's  man  crept  forward  and 
took  a  vapor  bomb  from  beneath  his  coat.  This 
was  the  perilous  moment,  he  knew.  This  particular 
bomb  was  a  delicate  one  that  would  make  no  noise 
as  it  exploded.  But  unless  the  vapor  struck  into 
the  nostrils  of  the  five  men,  disaster  might  come. 
If  one  of  them  escaped  unconsciousness  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  would  be  able  to  give  the  alarm. 

Another  bomb  came  from  beneath  the  coat.  The 
first  one  was  hurled  to  the  marble  floor  at  the  back 
of  the  five  men.  The  second  followed  it. 

Clouds  of  vapor  arose.  The  Black  Star's  man 
held  a  sponge  to  his  nostrils,  flashed  his  torch  and 
watched.  It  had  worked — the  five  men  were  stag- 
gering— had  fallen ! 

He  had  swift  work  to  do  now.     At  any  moment 


114  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

the  guard  might  return  with  the  engineer,  or  the 
other  guard  come  from  the  front  door.  He  knelt 
beside  the  first  man,  and  drove  home  the  point  of 
the  needle.  He  worked  in  the  dark,  for  it  was  safer 
that  way.  One  by  one  he  drugged  them,  and  then 
he  darted  noiselessly  toward  the  door  that  led  to  the 
basement. 

He  was  just  in  time — the  guard  and  engineer  were 
coming  up. 

"Guess  it's  a  fuse,"  the  guard  was  saying.  "Lights 
on  the  upper  floor  are  still  burning." 

They  stepped  into  the  dark  corridor,  and  the 
guard  called  for  one  of  the  policemen  to  flash  his 
torch.  The  Black  Star's  man  stepped  up  close,  and 
again  the  vapor  gun  was  discharged.  They  stag- 
gered and  fell. 

The  needle  was  used  again,  and  then  he  darted 
toward  the  entrance.  The  guard  there  had  reported 
to  the  one  outside,  and  was  returning. 

"Hurry  up  with  those  lights!"   he  shouted. 

He  gasped;  collapsed.  The  Black  Star's  man 
caught  him  and  let  him  down  to  the  floor.  He  was 
holding  the  sponge  to  his  nostrils  again. 

"I'll  be  going  asleep  from  that  vapor  myself  in 
a  minute,  if  I'm  not  careful,"  he  told  himself.  "I've 
hardly  any  more  of  the  stuff.  It's  a  good  thing 
they're  all  down  and  out!" 

He  lifted  the  unconscious  guard  and  carried  him 
to  one  side,  where  he  could  not  be  seen  from  the 
entrance.  Then  he  ran  through  the  corridor  and 
threw  the  light  switch  again,  so  that  those  outside 
would  think  everything  was  all  right  in  the  interior. 

Then  he  ran  to  the  basement  door,  hurried  down 
the  steps,  went  to  a  big  electric  switch  on  the 


INSIDE  THE  MUSEUM  115 

wall,  and  threw  that.  The  deadly  protective  current 
was  shut  off  all  over  the  building. 

Up  the  stairs  he  dashed  to  the  second  floor.  He 
hurried  to  a  window  on  one  side  of  the  building, 
took  an  electric  torch  from  his  pocket  and  flashed  it 
seven  times. 

The  flashes  were  observed  by  a  man  in  a  window 
across  the  street. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

MISSING   MASTERPIECES 

A  HALF  a  dozen  policemen  were  on  guard  out- 
side the  museum.  They  walked  around  the 
building  continually,  and  communicated  at  the  end 
of  each  hour  with  one  of  the  guards  inside.  Now 
and  then  they  gathered  near  the  entrance  to  talk 
and  wish  their  vigil  was  over. 

Ten  minutes  after  the  Black  Star's  man  had 
flashed  his  torch  from  the  window,  these  six  officers 
were  startled  by  sounds  of  an  altercation  in  the 
street.  Two  men,  their  voices  raised,  were  quarrel- 
ing. Others  passing  in  the  street  stopped  to  listen. 
Threats  were  hurled  back  and  forth.  The  men 
grappled,  started  to  fight. 

Two  of  the  policemen  left  the  museum  and  started 
running  toward  the  combatants.  When  they  were 
halfway  one  of  the  fighting  men  darted  backward, 
drew  a  revolver  and  began  firing. 

There  was  a  crowd  on  the  corner  now.  The 
quarrelsome  one  continued  to  shoot;  the  other  man 
fell  in  the  street. 

The  four  other  policemen  forgot  the  museum. 
They  ran  toward  the  corner,  clubs  in  their  hands, 
to  beat  back  the  crowd,  to  help  take  charge  of  the 
murderer,  to  send  for  an  ambulance,  if  it  proved 
to  be  necessary. 

The  Black  Star's  man  observed  this  from  a 
window.  He  flashed  his  torch  again,  and  then  ran 


MISSING  MASTERPIECES  117 

down  the  stairs  and  to  a  little  side  door  of  the 
museum,  which  he  unlocked. 

Four  men  darted  across  the  street  and  through 
this  door.  It  was  locked  again  immediately. 

"All  of  them  down  and  out!"  the  man  who  had 
been  inside  reported.  "We'll  have  to  work  swiftly. 
They'll  be  expecting  a  guard  to  show  his  face  at  the 
door  at  the  end  of  the  hour.  Come  with  me — 
I  know  the  paintings  the  boss  wants." 

"How  about  that  electric  current?"  one  asked. 

"I  turned  it  off,  of  course.     Hurry!" 

They  ran  up  the  stairs  and  into  one  of  the  gal- 
leries. The  man  who  had  been  inside  indicated  six 
paintings.  Men  crawled  beneath  the  protecting  rail- 
ings, drew  knives  and  started  cutting  the  paintings 
from  their  frames. 

"No  time  to  waste !"  the  leader  informed  them. 
"We've  got  about  fifteen  minutes  more." 

He  ran  to  one  of  the  windows  and  glanced  out 
at  the  street.  The  crowd  was  growing  larger.  The 
police  had  ascertained  that  the  man  who  had  fallen 
was  not  shot,  but  had  stumbled  in  his  mad  haste  to 
get  away.  The  two  men  had  been  arrested,  and 
the  patrol  auto  called.  None  of  the  police  had 
started  back  toward  the  museum,  though  some  of 
them  glanced  in  that  direction  now  and  then. 

Inside,  the  paintings  had  been  cut  from  their 
frames  and  made  into  rolls.  The  rolls  were  tied  up 
with  rope  and  then  lashed  together. 

"Out  you  go !"  said  the  man  who  had  hidden  inside. 

They  hurried  down  the  stairs  and  to  the  little 
side  door.  The  one  ahead  opened  it  and  glanced  out. 

"Coast  all  clear!"  he  announced. 

Two    went    first,    carrying    the    roll    of    paintings 


u8  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

with  them.  The  others  left  one  by  one,  darted 
across  the  street,  and  each  went  in  a  different  di- 
rection. Those  with  the  paintings  had  an  automobile 
waiting;  they  jumped  in  and  were  driven  rapidly 
away. 

The  men  who  had  fought  were  carried  away  to 
jail;  their  part  had  been  done  well.  The  policemen 
went  back  to  the  museum,  joking  about  the  fight 
they  had  witnessed. 

"They'll  make  it  up  in  the  morning  and  get  fined 
for  fighting  and  discharging  firearms,"  one  of  them 
declared.  "Business  quarrel,  eh?  Pretty  vigorous 
business  men,  I  think!" 

"Suppose  everything's  all  right  inside?"  another 
asked. 

"That  gang  inside  is  so  busy  playing  cards  that 
they  wouldn't  know  it  if  a  battle  was  staged  in 
the  street." 

The  end  of  the  hour  came,  but  no  guard  showed 
himself  at  the  front  door  to  say  that  everything 
was  all  right.  One  of  the  policemen  pounded  upon 
it,  but  got  no  response. 

"That's  funny!"  he  said.  "They  ought  to  an- 
swer— that's  their  orders!" 

He  pounded  upon  the  door  again,  and  still  he 
got  no  reply  from  those  inside. 

"Think  we'd  better  go  in?"  one  of  the  others 
asked. 

"We've  got  orders  not  to  do  it  unless  we  know 
there's  trouble  inside." 

"Well,  there  may  be  trouble." 

"Card  game — that's  all.  You  listen  to  me — hand 
that  guard  a  call  down  when  he  shows  up.  He's  a 


MISSING  MASTERPIECES  119 

sort  of  fresh  guy,  anyway — thinks  he  owns  the 
museum,  I  guess  1" 

Once  more  he  pounded  on  the  door  and  got  no 
response.  The  police  began  to  look  serious. 

"Aw,  how  could  anything  happen?"  one  of  them 
asked.  "Nobody  could  get  into  the  museum,  could 
they?  And  there  was  nobody  in  there  when  it 
was  locked  up  except  them  that  belonged.  Ain't 
we  been  on  watch?" 

"Well,  that  scrap  called  all  of  us  across  the  street 
for  a  time,  remember." 

"Yes,  and  we'd  better  forget  that  if  there  happens 
to  be  any  trouble  inside.  I  think  we'd  better  go  in 
and  investigate.  This  doesn't  look  exactly  good 
to  me." 

He  took  a  key  from  his  pocket — a  key  to  the 
front  door  of  the  museum,  that  had  been  given 
him  for  just  such  an  emergency.  He  unlocked  the 
door  and  went  in  with  two  of  the  others,  locking 
the  door  behind  him. 

They  hurried  through  the  entrance  and  started 
down  the  corridor  toward  the  wide  stairs  that  led 
to  the  floor  above.  The  one  in  advance  gave  a 
cry  of  horror  and  started  forward.  Stretched  on 
the  marble  floor  were  policemen  and  museum  guards, 
unconscious,  and  plainly  drugged  in  some  manner. 

"Call  headquarters!"  one  of  the  policemen  shrieked. 
"Get  the  chief!" 

Another  ran  to  the  nearest  telephone,  which  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  office  of  the  custodian.  Within  a 
short  time  he  had  the  chief  on  the  wire. 

"This  is  Officer  Riley,  at  the  museum,"  he  said. 
"There's  something  wrong  here.  No  guard  showed 
up  at  the  front  door  at  the  end  of  the  hour,  and 


120  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

so  we  came  inside.  We  found  all  the  guards  and 
officers  unconscious,  laid  out!" 

"What's  that?"  the  chief  cried.  "What  laid  'em 
out?  What's  happened  out  there?" 

"We  just  got  inside  the  building — haven't  had 
time  to  investigate — don't  know  what's  been  going 
on!"  Officer  Riley  gasped.  "Thought  I'd  better 
call  you  at  once." 

"Keep  your  eyes  open — we'll  be  right  up  there!" 
the  chief  cried.  "Keep  right  on  the  job!" 

"Better  bring  the  police  surgeon  with  you,  chief. 
There  seems  to  be  something  wrong  with  these  men." 

That  telephone  conversation  caused  another  tumult 
at  police  headquarters.  The  chief  bellowed  his  or- 
ders, then  ran  with  Verbeck  and  Muggs  to  the 
former's  roadster,  which  was  in  readiness  at  the 
curb.  With  Verbeck  at  the  wheel,  the  powerful 
car  dashed  through  the  streets  toward  the  museum, 
and  behind  it  came  half  a  dozen  police  department 
autos  filled  with  detectives. 

They  reached  the  museum,  left  the  cars  and 
hurried  to  the  entrance.  One  of  the  men  inside 
unlocked  and  opened  the  door. 

"They  are  still  unconscious,  chief !"  he  reported. 
"Looks  to  me  as  if  they  had  been  doped." 

The    police    surgeon    made    a    swift   examination. 

"They  have  been  drugged,"  he  announced,  "and 
pretty  badly,  at  that.  I'll  have  to  get  busy  on  them 
at  once,  or  we'll  have  dead  men  on  our  hands." 

"Bring  them  around  as  soon  as  you  can,"  the 
chief  said.  "I  want  to  hear  what  they've  got  to 
say.  And  you  men  search  the  entire  building! 
We'll  look  into  this!  One  of  you  call  up  the  su- 


MISSING  MASTERPIECES  121 

perintendent  of  the  museum  and  get  him  down  here. 
Lively!" 

The  officers  scattered  throughout  the  big  building, 
turned  on  all  the  lights,  and  began  their  search. 
They  found  the  unconscious  guards  on  the  upper 
floor  and  carried  them  below  for  the  police  surgeon 
to  work  on.  The  surgeon  sent  in  a  call  for  his 
assistants. 

Policemen  who  searched  the  statuary  hall  dis- 
covered the  open  trapdoor.  They  got  up  into  the 
attic,  and  investigated  there,  and  found  nothing  ex- 
cept dust  and  footprints  in  it.  Down  to  the  first 
floor  they  went  to  report  this. 

Verbeck  and  Muggs  hurried  to  the  attic  and  in- 
vestigated for  themselves. 

"Very  simple,"  Verbeck  said.  "Some  member 
or  members  of  the  gang  got  up  here  during  the 
day,  remained  in  hiding  until  night,  and  then  got 
down  and  handled  the  guards  and  officers." 

"Yeah,  but  where  are  they  now?"  Muggs  wanted 
to  know. 

"Not  in  the  building,  you  may  be  sure.  They 
managed  to  get  out  in  some  manner." 

"And    what    did    they    swipe?" 

"The  superintendent  will  have  to  tell  that,  I 
suppose.  There  are  several  thousand  things  in  this 
place,  Muggs,  that  are  almost  priceless.  The  Black 
Star  has  done  it  again.  Let's  go  downstairs  and 
see  if  there  is  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  clew." 

They  hurried  down  the  stairs.  The  superintendent 
of  the  museum  had  just  arrived — a  worried,  frantic 
superintendent  who  immediately  telephoned  for  more 
guards  and  one  of  his  assistants. 


122  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I  am  almost  afraid  to  look,"  he  announced. 
"Do  you  suppose  anything  has  been  taken?" 

"That  little  side  door  is  unlocked,"  one  of  the 
detectives  reported  to  the  chief. 

"It  shouldn't  be,"  said  the  superintendent.  "It 
always  is  locked  except  when  we  are  receiving  new 
exhibits,  which  are  delivered  at  that  entrance." 

Verbeck  grasped  one  of  the  officers  by  the  arm. 

"Have  you  watched  closely  all  night?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"Yes,   sir." 

"Didn't  leave  the  museum  at  all?" 

"For  a  few  minutes.  There  was  a  shooting  scrape 
at  the  corner " 

"Did  all  of  you  go  there?  How  long  were  you 
gone?  Speak  quickly,  man!" 

"Weren't  gone  more  than  half  an  hour.  But  we 
watched  the  museum,  just  the  same.  It's  light " 

"From  the  corner  you  couldn't  see  that  little  side 
door!"  Verbeck  thundered.  "Any  of  the  Black  Star's 
men  who  had  hidden  in  the  museum  could  have 
rendered  these  guards  and  officers  unconscious,  taken 
what  they  wished,  and  walked  right  out  of  that 
side  door  with  it,  while  you  were  over  at  the  corner. 
That  fight  was  staged  for  a  certain  purpose!" 

"Oh,  you  fools!"  the  chief  cried.  "The  news- 
papers are  right — the  police  force  is  a  gang  of 
imbeciles!  Idiots!  You've  let  him  get  away  with  it 
again !" 

The  superintendent  of  the  museum  had  been  going 
through  the  building  with  a  couple  of  detectives, 
and  now  they  heard  his  cry  of  surprise  and  rage 
from  the  upper  floor. 


MISSING  MASTERPIECES  123 

"What  is  it?  Find  something  missing?"  the  chief 
cried. 

"Six  famous  paintings!"  the  superintendent 
shrieked.  "Six  of  them  gone!  Six  priceless  master- 
pieces— cut  from  their  frames — carried  away!  The 
protective  current — it  must  have  been  turned  off! 
Six  of  the  most  priceless  pictures!" 

"Great  Scott!"  the  chief  ejaculated. 

"Now  there  will  be  a  fine  row!"  Verbeck  said. 
"We've  got  to  catch  the  Black  Star  and  get  those 
paintings  back!  Every  art  lover  will  howl  until 
we  do!  And,  worst  of  all,  they  didn't  belong  to  the 
museum — they  were  merely  loaned.  And  the  six  are 
worth  more  than  a  million  dollars!" 


CHAPTER  XV 

SOME     FISHERMEN 

AT  his  headquarters,  the  Black  Star  was  pacing 
the  floor  nervously,  his  hands  clasped  behind 
his  back.  A  buzzer  sounded,  and  he  hurried  to  the 
telephone,  taking  it  from  its  hiding  place  in  the 
niche  in  the  wall. 

"Hello!"  he  said. 

"Number    Eleven." 

"Countersign?" 

"Kokomo." 

"Report,"   ordered  the  master  crook. 

"Everything  went  off  as  planned,  sir.  I  got  into 
the  attic  without  much  trouble,  and  subdued  the 
guards  and  policemen  when  the  proper  time  came. 
The  fight  was  started  as  soon  as  the  men  received 
my  signal." 

"How  about  the  loot?" 

"We  got  all  six  of  the  paintings,  sir,  and  they 
are  on  their  way  to  you  now." 

"Good!  That  is  all  for  to-night.  Report  at  the 
usual  time  in  person  to-morrow." 

The  Black  Star  hung  up  the  receiver,  rang  the 
bell  three  times,  took  the  receiver  down  again.  The 
ring  was  heard  by  men  at  a  telephone  instrument 
in  the  woods  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 

"Hello!"  one  of  them  answered. 

"Start!"  the  Black  Star  said;  and  then  he  hung 
up  the  receiver  again  and  touched  the  bell  button. 
The  servant  came  into  the  headquarters  room. 


SOME  FISHERMEN  125 

"Tell  the  mechanic  to  be  ready  to  start  within 
five  minutes,"  the  master  rogue  ordered. 

The  servant  hurried  away,  and  the  Black  Star  took 
off  his  robe  and  put  on  the  heavy  ulster  once  more. 
Presently  he  hurried  from  the  room,  closing  and 
locking  the  door  behind  him. 

In  the  woods,  six  men  left  the  hidden  telephone 
and  hurried  along  a  narrow,  winding  path  through 
the  darkness,  going  toward  the  bank  of  the  river. 

They  did  not  speak  as  they  hurried  forward,  single 
file,  like  Indians  following  a  trail.  They  reached  the 
shore,  and  in  a  little  cove  came  upon  a  motor  boat 
hidden  beneath  overhanging  willows.  The  six  got 
into  the  boat. 

They  moved  the  craft  out  into  the  stream  and 
pointed  its  bow  toward  the  city.  The  six  were 
dressed  as  fishermen,  in  uncouth  clothing,  stubbles 
of  beard  upon  their  faces,  their  sleeves  rolled  up. 
In  the  launch  was  fishing  gear.  There  was  nothing 
in  the  appearance  of  the  craft  to  create  suspicion, 
but  a  mechanic,  had  he  looked  at  the  engine,  would 
have  marveled  that  common  fishermen  could  possess 
such  a  perfect  piece  of  machinery. 

The  regulation  lights  were  burning.  The  launch 
made  ordinary  speed  down  the  stream.  Two  of  the 
men  were  singing  raucously.  To  all  appearances 
here  were  six  fishermen  going  to  the  city  to  carouse 
at  some  cheap  resort  on  the  waterfront. 

At  the  lower  end  of  town,  the  launch  turned 
toward  the  shore.  At  a  small  dock  she  was  moored. 
But  only  five  of  the  men  left  the  boat — one  re- 
mained curled  up  in  the  stern,  hidden  by  a  mass 
of  canvas  and  fishing  gear. 

The  five   entered  a  cheap  resort  and  drank,  and 


126  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

then  went  upon  the  street  again,  as  if  starting  to 
another  place.  They  slipped  through  a  dark  alley, 
emerged  on  a  side  street  and  hurried  along  it, 
maintaining  a  conversation  that  had  to  do  with 
fish  and  market  prices. 

After  a  time  they  came  to  a  public  square  in  an 
old  section  of  the  city.  Here  were  business  houses 
that  had  been  there  for  scores  of  years,  famous 
establishments  that  scorned  to  move  to  a  more  mod- 
ern district  of  the  town. 

They  stopped  on  a  corner  and  talked  loudly, 
half  quarreling,  as  intoxicated  fishermen  might  be 
expected  to  do.  A  policeman  warned  them  to  lower 
their  voices  and  behave,  and  they  went  on  up  the 
street,  slowly,  staggering  a  bit,  laughing  now  and 
then. 

On  the  next  corner  was  a  bakery.  The  base- 
ment door  was  open,  and  a  baker  stood  in  it.  Odors 
of  fresh  bread  and  cakes  poured  out. 

"Urn!"  one  of  the  fishermen  gasped.  "Any 
chance  to  get  some  hot  bread?" 

"Do  you  happen  to  have  the  price?"  the  baker 
asked. 

"We  sure  have!" 

A  passing  pedestrian  heard  the  conversation,  smiled, 
and  walked  on. 

"Come  downstairs,   then,"  the  baker  said. 

They  descended  the  stairs  and  entered  the  oven 
department.  They  threw  coins  on  a  table,  and 
each  was  given  a  loaf  of  warm  bread,  and  they 
began  eating,  still  laughing  and  talking.  The  baker's 
assistant  had  finished  his  work  and  washed  up,  and 
now  was  telling  his  employer  good  night.  He 
hurried  up  the  steps  and  went  away. 


SOME  FISHERMEN  127 

The  baker  led  the  five  fishermen  into  a  rear  room 
to  show  them  more  ovens,  where  cakes  were  baking. 
He  closed  the  door  between  the  two  rooms.  In- 
stantly the  demeanor  of  the  five  men  changed. 

"Everything  all  right?"  one  of  them  asked. 

"There  is  one  guard  in  the  diamond  room.  The 
others  are  on  the  two  floors,"  the  baker  replied. 

"How  many  in  all?" 

"Only  four." 

"Cinch!"  said  one  of  the  five.     "Let's  go!" 

"I'll  have  the  other  stuff  ready,"  the  baker 
informed  them. 

He  opened  the  door  and  glanced  into  the  other 
room,  closed  the  door  again  and  motioned  that  every- 
thing was  all  right.  The  five  men  hurried  to  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  and  one  of  them  pressed 
against  the  wall.  A  small  door  swung  open. 

They  passed  through  the  wall  and  into  the  base- 
ment of  the  building  adjoining.  An  engineer  was 
asleep  in  a  chair  before  his  table,  and  he  was  ren- 
dered unconscious  immediately  by  means  of  a  vapor 
gun.  The  five  hurried  up  a  flight  of  stairs,  opened 
a  door,  and  entered  a  rear  hall. 

They  were  at  the  back  of  a  famous  jewelry  es- 
tablishment now,  one  that  had  a  famous  name  in  the 
business  world,  one  which  scorned  to  move  to  better 
quarters,  but  which  was  protected  by  every  known 
device.  Another  door  was  opened,  and  they  were 
in  a  storeroom. 

They  moved  with  more  caution  now,  for  this 
was  dangerous  ground.  The  Black  Star  had  planned 
this  attack  on  the  assumption  that  he  would  be 
expected  to  rob  a  more  pretentious  establishment. 


128  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Few  men  knew  that  a  large  shipment  of  gorgeous 
diamonds  had  recently  been  received  by  this  firm — 
but  the  Black  Star  knew  it.  One  of  his  band  was  a 
trusted  clerk  in  the  house. 

Moreover,  at  that  moment,  the  Black  Star  was 
creating  a  diversion.  In  the  principal  retail  district 
of  the  city  there  was  a  fashionable  jewelry  store 
housed  in  a  modern  building.  It  was  being  heavily 
guarded  this  night,  for  the  proprietors  had  taken 
cognizance  of  the  master  crook's  announcement  that 
he  intended  to  purloin  rare  jewels,  and  they  flattered 
themselves  that  their  establishment  would  be  the  one 
visited. 

More  than  a  score  of  special  watchmen  and 
police  officers  were  in  this  building.  One  of  the 
proprietors  himself  was  on  hand,  aiding  in  safe- 
guarding the  jewels.  The  entire  establishment  was 
brilliantly  lighted.  The  shades  and  fire  curtains  at 
the  windows  were  raised,  and  the  door  of  the  vault 
room  stood  open  so  that  it  could  be  seen  from  the 
front  street.  The  Pioneer  Diamond  Company  was 
taking  no  chances  of  being  looted. 

And  suddenly  the  building  that  housed  the  dia- 
mond company  was  bathed  in  brilliant  light  that 
seemed  to  come  out  of  the  sky!  People  in  the 
streets,  remembering  what  had  happened  three  nights 
before,  began  shrieking  that  the  Black  Star  and  his 
men  were  at  work.  An  alarm  was  sent  to  police 
headquarters,  and  relayed  to  the  chief  at  the  museum. 
The  Black  Star  was  robbing  the  Pioneer  Diamond 
Company ! 

Leaving  a  small  police  guard  at  the  museum,  the 
chief  hurried  to  the  scene  with  the  remainder  of 
his  men.  Verbeck  and  Muggs  went  ahead  in  the 


SOME  FISHERMEN  129 

roadster,  charging  through  the  streets,  the  horn 
shrieking  a  warning.  As  they  arrived,  the  bright 
light  had  disappeared,  but  soon  they  saw  it  again. 

"That's  the  Black  Star,"  Verbeck  said.  "I  can't 
figure  out  how  he  does  it,  but  I  suppose  the  solution 
will  be  simple  enough  when  we  learn  it." 

"I'd  like  to  beat  it  out  of  him!"  Muggs  said. 

The  police  had  entered  the  building,  and  the  chief 
had  ascertained  that  nothing  had  happened.  As 
far  as  they  knew,  there  was  nobody  in  the  estab- 
lishment who  did  not  have  a  right  to  be  there. 
But  that  did  not  mean  that  the  danger  was  over. 

"I  don't  like  the  looks  of  this!"  Verbeck  said. 
"I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the  gang  is  doing 
the  real  work  in  some  other  place." 

"I've  got  men  every  place  where  there  is  any 
quantity  of  precious  stones,"  the  chief  said,  "and 
they  have  orders  to  send  an  alarm  to  headquarters 
the  instant  they  see  or  hear  anything  that  seems 
to  be  suspicious." 

The  bright  light  from  the  sky  had  disappeared 
again.  Out  in  the  street  there  was  a  series  of 
explosions,  and  Verbeck  and  Muggs  and  the  chief 
rushed  to  a  window,  and  saw  clouds  of  vapor  rising 
from  the  pavement. 

"He's  got  some  scheme!"  the  chief  declared. 
"Watch  yourselves,  you  men,  and  be  ready  to  go 
into  action !  More  of  you  go  into  the  vault  room 
and  watch  there!" 

The  proprietor  was  like  a  maniac,  and  the  chief 
whirled  upon  him  angrily. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  demanded. 
"You  don't  see  any  of  the  crook's  gang  around 


130  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

here,  do  you?  How  can  we  do  anything  until  they 
show  up?  You  give  me  a  pain." 

"There  is  a  fortune  in  the  vault " 

"And  it'll  probably  remain  there!"  the  chief  said. 
"We  are  playing  a  game  that  is  tough  enough  with- 
out having  an  insane  man  raving  around  us  I" 

Another  shower  of  vapor  bombs  came  from  the 
sky.  The  people  in  the  streets  were  scattering, 
seeking  cover.  Once  more  the  bright  light  blazed 
forth.  Out  into  the  street  rushed  Verbeck  and 
Muggs.  The  light  disappeared,  and  presently  they 
heard  the  voice  of  the  Black  Star. 

"Better  watch  those  diamonds,  gentlemen!"  he 
shouted.  "You'll  be  missing  a  lot  of  them  the  first 
thing  you  know.  I  Jove  gems,  and  I  happen  to 
know  that  there  ar^^^Bre  glorious  ones  in  the  vault 
of  the  Pioneer  Diamond  Company." 

The  voice  died  away,  and  they  heard  no  more. 
Verbeck  and  Muggs  rushed  back  into  the  store.  The 
chief  was  in  the  vault  room. 

"Are  all  your  diamonds  and  expensive  jewels 
in  that  vault?"  the  chief  asked  the  member  of  the 
firm  who  was  spending  the  night  in  the  store. 

"All  except  a  few  small  stones  such  as  the  Black 
Star  would  not  bother  about." 

"Then  Mr.  Black  Star  is  going  to  fall  down  on 
the  job!"  the  chief  declared.  "We'll  just  pack 
this  vault  room  full  of  officers.  The  only  way 
those  crooks  can  get  in  then  will  be  to  tunnel  through 
the  bottom  of  the  vault!" 

"They  can't  do  that — the  vault  is  impregnable!" 
the  member  of  the  firm  declared. 

The  chief  laughed  scornfully.  "It  may  be  im- 
pregnable as  far  as  ordinary  criminals  are  con- 


SOME  FISHERMEN  131 

cerned,"  he  retorted,  "but  we  are  dealing  with  the 
Black  Star,  please  remember,  and  he  dotes  on  sup- 
posedly impregnable  things.  Vaults  do  not  seem 
to  bother  his  men  much.  Open  the  door  of  the 
vault,  and  sit  in  it  yourself.  We'll  watch  the  inside 
as  well  as  the  outside." 

The  door  of  the  vault  was  opened.  An  investi- 
gation showed  that  everything  was  all  right.  And 
so  they  waited  for  the  blow  that  they  expected. 

A  telephone  bell  rang,  and  the  member  of  the 
firm  hurried  to  the  instrument  to  answer. 

"It's  a  call  for  you,  chief,  from  your  head- 
quarters," he  reported. 

The  chief  rushed  to  the  telephone.  He  was  ex- 
periencing a  feeling  of  apprehension. 

"Hello!"    he   cried. 

A   desk   sergeant   at   headquarters   answered   him. 

"That  you,  chief?  The  Black  Star's  men  are 
raiding  a  diamond  store  downtown.  I  just  got  the 
tip  from  a  watchmen  who  dodged  them.  Wait — I'll 
give  you  the  address!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

HOT    BREAD 

FAR  downtown,  the  five  fishermen  passed  through 
the  storeroom  and  entered  another  hall.  They 
walked  through  this  to  the  end,  making  not  the 
slightest  noise.  Each  man  held  a  vapor  gun  in 
his  hand  and  was  prepared  to  use  it  if  occasion 
demanded. 

At  the  end  of  the  hall,  another  door  was  opened 
with  a  duplicate  key  one  of  the  men  took  from  his 
pocket.  The  five  crept  through,  and  closed  the  door 
again. 

"Two  men  on  each  floor,  and  one  in  the  diamond 
room,"  the  leader  whispered.  '"Make  sure  that  we 
get  them  all." 

The  band  scattered.  Two  remained  on  the  lower 
floor,  two  started  to  the  floor  above,  and  one  made 
his  way  toward  the  diamond  room  in  the  rear. 
Dim  lights  were  burning  here  and  there,  and  the 
men  moved  from  shadow  to  shadow,  noiselessly  alert. 

On  the  lower  floor,  the  two  watchmen  were  eating 
their  night  luncheon.  They  sat  close  together,  talk- 
ing in  low  tones.  A  light  was  burning  above  the 
table  upon  which  they  had  put  their  lunch  boxes, 
but  the  spot  could  not  be  seen  from  the  street 
through  the  windows. 

The  Black  Star's  two  men  advanced  carefully. 
One  of  them  made  a  sign,  transferred  the  vapor 
gun  to  his  left  hand,  and  took  a  bomb  out  of  his 
pocket.  He  hurled  it  behind  the  two  watchmen. 


HOT  BREAD  133 

They  sprang  to  their  feet,  gasped,  dropped.  The 
two  members  of  the  Black  Star's  band  turned  away 
and  darted  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  ready  to  help 
their  companions  if  help  should  be  needed. 

On  the  second  floor,  the  two  watchmen  were 
found  separated  and  rendered  unconscious  imme- 
diately. The  man  who  had  gone  toward  the  diamond 
room  stopped  just  outside  the  door  and  peered  in. 
The  watchman  inside  evidently  feared  no  interrup- 
tion. He  was  sitting  with  his  back  to  the  open 
door,  reading  a  newspaper. 

A  shot  from  the  vapor  pistol,  and  he  was  un- 
conscious. Three  of  the  other  four  men  hurried  into 
the  room.  The  other  remained  below,  on  guard  at 
the  end  of  the  hall  through  which  they  had  entered. 

Tools  were  taken  from  pockets,  and  work  began 
on  the  door  of  the  vault.  Two  of  the  band  were 
experienced  workmen  in  whom  the  Black  Star  took 
pride.  They  worked  swiftly,  yet  thoroughly.  They 
knew  that  opening  the  vault  would  take  some  time. 

On  the  lower  floor  the  two  watchmen  remained 
stretched  on  the  carpet.  Presently,  one  of  them 
opened  his  eyes,  then  raised  his  head  and  looked 
around  carefully. 

It  happened  that  he  had  inhaled  very  little  of  the 
vapor  from  the  bomb.  As  he  fell  he  had  tottered 
to  one  side,  and  the  draft  from  the  nearest  ventilator 
had  carried  the  fumes  away  from  him.  He  was  a 
man  who  had  read  all  the  newspapers  ever  had 
printed  concerning  the  Black  Star's  methods,  and 
he  guessed  immediately  what  had  occurred. 

He  did  not  know  with  how  many  men  he  had 
to  contend.  He  supposed  they  were  raiding  the  dia- 


134  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

mond  room,  and  that  there  were  guards  posted,  but 
could  not  be  sure.  He  listened  intently,  glanced 
around  again.  He  saw  nobody,  heard  nothing  ex- 
cept a  slight  sound  that  came  from  the  diamond 
room,  the  rasping  of  tools  against  steel. 

The  watchman  had  been  long  in  the  service  of 
the  firm,  and  was  a  trusted  man.  But  he  also  was 
an  old  man,  and  not  very  strong.  He  was  not  the 
sort  to  combat  the  Black  Star's  band  single-handed, 
though  he  had  a  revolver  in  his  pocket. 

But  he  was  the  sort  who  would  take  a  chance 
to  give  an  alarm.  He  glanced  at  his  unconscious 
companion,  looked  around  the  room  again,  and 
started  crawling  slowly  over  the  floor,  a  foot  at  a 
time. 

He  came  to  the  first  aisle,  and  looked  down  it. 
There  was  nobody  in  sight.  He  crept  along  the 
counters,  behind  them,  stopping  now  and  then  to 
listen.  He  was  not  making  fast  progress,  but  he 
was  afraid  to  risk  everything  in  the  interests  of 
speed. 

Finally  he  reached  the  end  of  the  counter,  and 
once  more  he  looked  around  and  listened.  He  could 
still  hear  the  slight  noise  in  the  diamond  room,  but 
that  was  all.  He  had  an  open  space  of  twenty  feet 
to  cross  now,  and  he  proceeded  faster,  and  finally 
reached  the  door  of  a  private  office. 

He  raised  himself,  opened  the  door  noiselessly  and 
entered.  Then  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  locked  the  door, 
and  darted  to  the  telephone  on  the  desk. 

He  had  expected  to  find  the  telephone  useless,  and 
was  gratified  that  such  was  not  the  case.  Once 
more  he  paused  to  listen,  and  then  lifted  the  receiver 


HOT  BREAD  335 

from  the  hook,  and  put  his  lips  close  to  the 
transmitter. 

"Number?"  asked  the  girl  at  central. 

"Police    headquarters — quick !" 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  waited  an  eternity  be- 
fore the  voice  of  the  desk  sergeant  came  to  him  over 
the  wire. 

"Robbery!"  he  gasped.     "Black  Star's  men!" 

"Where,  man — where?"  demanded  the  sergeant. 

The  watchman  gave   the   address. 

"This  is  one  of  the  watchmen,"  he  added.  "The 
gas  bomb  didn't  put  me  out,  and  I  managed  to  crawl 
to  the  office.  Hurry — hurry!  They  are  in  the  dia- 
mond room  now — I  don't  know  how  many  of  them! 
But  hurry!" 

Then  the  old  watchman  sank  into  the  chair  before 
the  desk,  weak  and  trembling.  He  had  done  his 
part,  and  he  could  not  do  more.  He  took  out  his 
revolver,  and  tried  to  decide  whether  he  should 
attack  them.  It  would  be  better,  he  thought,  to 
wait  until  the  police  came — they  would  not  be  long. 

Up  in  the  diamond  room  the  Black  Star's  men 
had  opened  the  vault  door,  finally.  They  reached 
for  three  certain  trays,  and  swept  the  diamonds  from 
them.  They  had  orders  what  to  get  and  what  to 
leave — the  master  rogue  wanted  only  some  stones 
recently  received,  one  hundred  superior  stones  upon 
which  a  high  valuation  had  been  placed  by  experts. 

With  the  gems  in  their  pockets,  they  left  the 
diamond  room  and  closed  the  door  behind  them. 
They  started  down  the  hall  to  meet  the  men  who 
had  remained  on  guard. 

And  suddenly  they  heard  police  sirens   shrieking, 


136  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

and  the  front  of  the  establishment  was  bathed  in. 
light. 

"The  cops  are  on  us!"  one  of  them  gasped. 

"We  needn't  worry  if  we  can  get  through  the 
basement  wall  and  into  the  bakeshop.  But  we'll 
have  to  hurry,"  another  replied,  rushing  along  the 
hall. 

They  darted  down  the  stairs,  closing  and  locking 
all  the  doors  as  they  went,  for  they  did  not  want 
the  police  to  guess  the  manner  of  their  entrance. 
The  Black  Star  might  have  need  of  the  baker  in 
some  other  enterprise. 

They  came  to  the  wall  and  tapped  upon  it.  The 
baker  swung  the  little  door  open,  and  they  stepped 
into  the  shop. 

"Cops  all  around  the  place!"  he  reported.  "Must 
have  been  tipped  off  in  some  way.  Where  are  the 
stones  ?" 

"Here!"  one  replied,  and  tumbled  them  on  the 
table. 

Before  the  baker  was  a  pan  of  dough.  He  worked 
swiftly,  forming  it  into  light  biscuits — and  into  each 
biscuit  he  put  diamonds.  He  put  the  biscuits  into 
a  pan,  greased  the  tops  of  them,  put  the  pan  into  one 
of  the  ovens. 

"Two  bottles  of  beer  there — open  them!"  he  or- 
dered in  a  whisper. 

One  of  the  five  fishermen  obeyed.  They  poured 
the  liquor  out,  drank  a  part  of  it,  put  their  glasses 
down  upon  the  table. 

There  was  bedlam  in  the  streets  now.  The  police 
had  surrounded  the  block.  They  were  battering  at 
doors,  and  the  old  watchman  was  letting  them  in 


HOT  BREAD  137 

at  the  front  entrance.  A  crowd  already  had  started 
to  gather. 

"Tight  hole!"  one  of  the  fishermen  said. 

"Not  unless  you  lose  your  nerve!"  the  baker 
answered.  "Beginning  to  get  scared?" 

"I  guess  I've  got  as  much  nerve  as  the  next  man!" 

"Then  show  it!"  the  baker  said.  "Make  a  wrong 
plan,  and  all  of  us  will  be  in  trouble.  They  are 
sure  to  come  in  here  in  a  minute  or  two." 

Verbeck  and  Muggs  had  entered  the  establishment 
with  the  chief.  The  old  watchman  told  his  story 
in  a  few  words.  Lights  were  turned  on,  and  the 
place  searched,  and  the  unconscious  men  found.  Then 
Verbeck  hurried  to  the  diamond  room,  with  the 
others  at  his  heels. 

The  door  of  the  vault  was  open.  Empty  trays 
were  on  the  floor;  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  vault 
was  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  upon  which  had  been 
pasted  a  row  of  little  black  stars. 

"Looted!"  the  chief  gasped.  "But  where  can 
they  be?" 

"Gone  before  we  got  here!"  Muggs  said. 

"The  watchman  says  he  heard  them  just  as  we 
came  up.  There  are  only  two  exits  to  the  ground 
floor — the  front  door  and  the  rear  one — and  no 
windows  in  the  back  large  enough  to  permit  a  man 
to  pass  through." 

"And  the  back  door  is  bolted  on  the  inside — I 
investigated  it,"  Verbeck  said. 

"Then,  where  have  they  gone?"  the  chief  cried. 
"This  thing  is  getting  on  my  nerves !  But  we've 
got  the  block  surrounded,  and  every  man  inside  the 
lines  will  give  an  account  of  himself." 

The  search  of  the  block  began,  and  it  was  a  me- 


138  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

thodical  and  thorough  one.  Building  by  building, 
room  by  room  it  went  on,  while  the  crowds  gathered 
outside.  The  chief  took  up  his  station  on  a  corner 
and  received  reports  that  were  highly  discouraging. 
It  appeared  that  the  master  criminal's  men  had  dis- 
appeared into  thin  air,  or  else  had  left  the  place 
before  the  police  arrived. 

Verbeck  and  Muggs  conducted  an  investigation  of 
their  own,  but  found  nothing  to  help  them. 

"This  gets  my  goat,  boss!"  Muggs  said.  "I 
think  it's  a  hoodoo  to  work  with  the  cops." 

"I'm  beginning  to  think  that  myself,  Muggs," 
Verbeck  replied.  "The  Black  Star  tricks  the  police, 
and  when  we  are  with  them  we  get  tricked,  too. 
Beginning  with  to-morrow,  Muggs,  you  and  I  tackle 
the  job  on  an  independent  basis." 

"That's  great,  boss!  And  we'll  get  that  big  crook, 
too!" 

"We'll  get  him!"  Verbeck  promised. 

"And  when  we  do,  you  turn  your  back  for  about 
five  minutes,  and  let  me  handle  him,"  Muggs  begged. 
"I  want  to  give  him  the  sore  throat,  and  give  it 
to  him  bad!" 

"Maybe  you'll  get  the  chance,"  Verbeck  said. 

Down  in  the  bakeshop  the  five  fishermen  were 
making  merry  around  the  table.  Upon  them  entered 
half  a  dozen  policemen,  a  captain  at  their  head. 

"Who  are  you,  and  what  are  you  doing  here?" 
the  officer  demanded,  looking  at  them  suspiciously. 

The  five  fishermen  showed  alarm  in  their  faces. 
The  baker  rushed  forward. 

"Why,  they're  friends  of  mine,  captain,"  he  said. 
"They're  fishermen,  and  come  up  from  the  wharf 


HOT  BREAD  *39 

now  and  then  at  night  to  have  a  little  drink  of 
beer  with  me.  I've  known  them  for  years." 

"What  are  your  names,  and  where  do  you  live 
and  work?"  the  captain  asked. 

They  were  ready  with  that  information.  They 
had  prepared  it  in  advance;  and,  if  their  answers 
were  investigated,  they  would  stand  the  test. 

"Well,  maybe  you're  all  right,  but  we  can't  afford 
to  take  any  chances,"  the  captain  said.  "The  Black 
Star's  gang  has  made  a  haul  in  the  jewelry  house 
on  the  other  side  of  the  block,  and  we're  taking  a 
good  look  at  every  man  around  here.  You'll  have 
to  stand  a  search,  or  be  taken  in!" 

The  five  fishermen  announced  that  they  were  will- 
ing to  be  searched.  The  search  was  carried  out  im- 
mediately. From  their  pockets  were  taken  knives, 
bits  of  twine,  chewing  tobacco,  soiled  handkerchiefs — 
things  one  would  expect  to  find  in  the  pockets  of 
such  men.  They  had,  of  course,  hidden  their  vapor 
guns  and  their  drilling  tools  in  a  safe  place  under 
the  cellar  flagstones  before  the  police  came  upon 
them. 

"Well,  what  are  you  hanging  around  here  to- 
night for?"  the  captain  demanded. 

"They  just  came  up  to  have  a  little  drink  with 
me,  and  to  get  some  fresh  bread,"  the  baker  ex- 
plained. "They  are  waiting  for  it  now — fresh  bread 
and  light  biscuits.  Jim,  there,  is  a  fiend  for  my 
light  biscuits." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  the  baker  turned  to  his 
oven  and  opened  the  door.  A  delicious  aroma 
streamed  forth,  and  the  men  sniffed.  Bread  and 
biscuits  were  tumbled  out,  and  the  baker  started 
wrapping  them  up. 


140  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"What  did  that  gang  get  in  the  jewelry  store?" 
he  asked  the  captain. 

"Don't  know  exactly — diamonds,  I  suppose.  You 
men  get  your  stuff  and  get  out  of  here.  I  guess 
you're  all  right.  How  are  you  going  to  get  home?" 

"We've  got  a  launch  down  at  the  wharf,"  one  of 
them  replied.  "She  ain't  much  to  look  at,  and  ain't 
any  race  horse,  but  she  does  manage  to  get  through 
the  water  a  bit.  Good  enough  for  our  business,  I 
reckon." 

"Get  your  stuff  and  come  along.  I'll  see  you 
through  the  lines,"  the  captain  told  them.  "We'll 
have  to  search  your  shop,  baker.  I'll  leave  a  couple 
of  men  to  do  that." 

"All  right.  But  I  ain't  in  the  diamond  business," 
the  baker  said,  grinning. 

The  captain  opened  the  door  and  motioned  for 
the  five  fishermen  to  pass  him.  He  conducted  them 
to  the  street  and  across  it,  and  passed  them  through 
the  lines.  They  went  on  toward  the  waterfront, 
talking  loudly,  swaggering  and  staggering  a  bit, 
jesting,  and  now  and  then  singing  a  snatch  of  song. 

Four  of  them  carried  a  loaf  of  bread  each.  The 
fifth  man  carried  a  dozen  light  biscuits  beneath  his 
arm. 

And  in  those  biscuits  was  a  fortune  in  diamonds! 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MUGS    SEES     HIS    MAN 

AGAIN  the  morning  newspapers  carried  full-page 
stones  of  the  depredations  of  the  Black  Star 
and  his  band.  Once  more  the  police  were  called 
idiots,  and  demands  were  made  that  the  chief  resign. 
Sheriff  Kowen  was  held  up  to  scorn. 

The  newspapers  carried  another  story,  too — that 
Roger  Verbeck  had  had  a  quarrel  with  the  chief 
of  police  over  the  way  the  fight  against  the  Black 
Star  was  being  conducted,  had  left  police  head- 
quarters with  Muggs,  too  angry  to  speak  to  the  re- 
porters, and  had  declared  afterward,  when  seen  at 
his  apartment,  that  he  was  done.  Why  should  he 
perform  the  duties  of  the  police  and  at  the  same 
time  submit  to  the  abuse  of  the  imbecile  chief,  he 
was  said  to  have  asked?  As  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, the  Black  Star  could  loot  banks  and  private 
residences  and  conduct  himself  as  he  pleased.  Roger 
Verbeck  might,  within  a  few  days,  take  himself  out 
of  the  city  and  remain  until  there  was  some  re- 
semblance of  law  and  order  again. 

The  chief  of  police  merely  admitted  that  there 
had  been  trouble  between  himself  and  Verbeck,  and 
said  that  he  felt  the  police  force  capable  of  attending 
to  its  own  affairs  without  any  help  from  plain 
citizens,  a  remark  that  caused  more  than  one  caustic 
editorial. 

The   Black   Star   had   sent   another   letter   to   the 


142  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

newspapers,  and  it  made  interesting  reading.     It  was 
as  follows: 

To  THE  PUBLIC:  I  said  I  would  purloin 
famous  objects  of  art  and  valuable  jewels,  and 
I  have  kept  my  word,  as  I  always  do.  Some  day 
when  I  have  time,  and  it  will  not  imperil  any 
of  my  people  to  do  so,  I  shall  send  a  letter 
telling  just  how  it  was  done. 

My  campaign  against  the  city  has  been  highly 
successful  so  far,  and  I  have  no  reason  to 
believe  it  ever  will  be  otherwise.  The  antics 
of  the  police  and  the  sheriff  and  his  deputies 
are  particularly  amusing  to  me;  it  would  be 
more  amusing  if  they  were  foemen  worthy  of 
my  steel. 

I  shall  rest  for  a  day,  and  two  nights  from 
now  shall  resume  my  campaign.  For  the  trouble 
I  experienced  during  my  incarceration,  the  city 
must  pay  in  full.  I  do  not  even  care  to  state 
the  nature  of  my  next  exploit,  but  I  guarantee 
that  it  will  be  sensational.  *  *  *  *  * 

Roger  Verbeck  and  Muggs  slept  until  noon  that 
day,  then  had  breakfast  and  read  the  newspapers. 
Verbeck's  face  glowed  when  he  read  of  the  quarrel 
between  the  police  and  himself. 

"It  may  work,  Muggs,  and  it  may  not,"  he  said. 
"I  fixed  it  up  with  the  chief,  and  he  certainly  has 
done  his  part.  The  Black  Star  will  have  us  watched 
for  a  few  days,  anyway,  so  we  must  be  on  our 
guard.  But  if  he  gets  the  idea  that  we  are  after 
him  no  longer,  we  may  be  able  to  pick  up  the  trail." 

"It's  a  hoodoo  to  work  with  cops!"  Muggs  de- 
clared. He  had  small  respect  for  the  police,  a  state 


MUGGS  SEES  HIS  MAN  143 

of  mind  that  was  a  relic  of  the  old  days  when  he 
had  fought  against  them  himself. 

"Well,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  by  working  alone, 
Muggs.  Have  you  anything  to  suggest?" 

"Only  that  we  find  his  headquarters,  catch  the 
crook  in  'em,  and  give  him  all  that's  comin'  to  him!" 
Muggs  said. 

"That  happens  to  be  a  large  order,  Muggs.  If 
we  can  do  those  things,  victory  will  perch  on  our 
banner." 

"I  didn't  know  Victory  was  a  bird,"  said  Muggs. 
"In  pictures  they  always  make  her  a  woman." 

"Muggs,  that  was  a  figure  of  speech — merely  a 
manner  of  talking.  Victory  always  perches  on  a 
banner,  Muggs — don't  forget  it.  I've  read  it  a 
thousand  times.  Anything  more  to  suggest?" 

"You'd  better  go  and  see  your  girl,"  Muggs 
told  him.  "You  ain't  been  to  see  her  for  almost  a 
week,  and  she'll  be  gettin'  peeved  at  you." 

"I  thought  you  hated  the  idea  of  me  getting 
married." 

"I  do,  but  it  can't  be  helped,"  Muggs  retorted. 
"And  she's  some  girl,  at  that.  Besides,  boss,  if 
I  drive  you  over  there,  and  around  town  a  bit,  it  is 
just  possible  that  we  might  spot  somebody  who 
belonged  to  that  crook's  old  gang." 

"That's  what  I've  been  trying  to  do  since  he 
escaped,  Muggs,  and  haven't  had  any  luck,"  Ver- 
beck  said.  "Get  out  the  roadster." 

"Roadster?" 

"Yes;  we  shall  not  take  Miss  Wendell  out  with' 
us.  I'll  visit  her  for  a  short  time,  and  then  we'll 
drive  around  town." 

Muggs  got  out  the  car,  and  ten  minutes  later  was 


144  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

driving  Roger  Verbeck  across  the  city  to  the  apart- 
ment house  that  was  the  home  of  Faustina  Wendell, 
Verbeck's  fiancee.  Verbeck  watched  the  people  on 
the  streets  as  they  rode  along,  and  Muggs  did  when 
it  was  possible,  but  they  failed  to  see  anybody  for 
whom  they  were  looking. 

Verbeck  hurried  inside  when  the  apartment  house 
was  reached,  and  Muggs  crouched  down  behind  the 
wheel,  pulled  his  cap  low  over  his  eyes,  and  pre- 
tended to  be  half  asleep.  But  he  was  scrutinizing 
every  man  and  woman  who  passed  the  roadster. 

Muggs  was  rejoicing  secretly  because  Verbeck  had 
elected  to  work  independently  of  the  police.  That 
meant  that  Muggs  would  play  a  more  active  part  in 
the  affair,  and  he  was  as  eager  for  a  large  part  as  an 
actor  in  a  stock  company.  Muggs  craved  adventure 
and  excitement,  and  the  lust  of  combat  was  strong 
within  him. 

"I'd  like  to  find  the  big  crook!"  he  growled,  as  he 
watched  the  passers-b^.  "I'd  like  to  find  him  with 
just  the  boss,  and  hand  him  a  few  and  lug  him  off 
to  jail  and  throw  him  in!  Make  fun  of  my  boss  in 
the  newspapers,  will  he?  The  big  stiff!"  -* 

Muggs  glanced  toward  the  apartment  house.  He 
supposed  that  Verbeck  would  remain  there  about  two 
hours  instead  of  a  few  minutes,  as  he  did  generally. 

"I  can't  understand  this  love  stuff!"  Muggs  said. 
"There's  plenty  of  chances  to  fight  without  gettinr 
married.  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  keep  dressed  up  all 
the  time  and  stand  in  a  corner  after  the  boss  gets 
back  from  his  honeymoon.  It's  enough  to  make  a 
man  turn  bad  again !  It's  enough  to " 

Muggs  suddenly  ceased  speculating  on  marriage 
and  the  status  of  a  valet  in  a  family.  He  had 


MUGGS  SEES  HIS  MAN  145 

spotted  a  man  walking  along  the  street,  on  the  oppo- 
site side.  He  turned  his  eyes  and  watched  him,  and 
his  heart  almost  stood  still. 

"Landers!"  he  gasped.  "The  Black  Star's  lieuten- 
ant— or  anyway  he  was  before.  He's  done  some- 
thin'  to  his  face  and  hair,  and  he's  fatter — but  he's 
Landers.  He's  got  a  nerve  paradin'  the  streets  this 
way !" 

This  was  something  that  Verbeck  should  know! 
But  Roger  Verbeck  was  visiting  Miss  Wendell,  and 
she  lived  on  the  tenth  floor,  and  in  a  rear  apartment, 
with  her  mother.  It  would  take  Muggs  several  min- 
utes to  get  inside  the  house  and  telephone  up,  and 
Verbeck  several  minutes  to  get  down  to  the  roadster. 
And  Landers  was  signaling  a  taxicab! 

Muggs  darted  inside  the  house  and  up  to  the  desk. 

"I'm  Mr.  Verbeck's  chauffeur!"  he  said.  "He's 
visitin*  Miss  Wendell.  You  phone  up  that  Muggs 
had  to  hurry  away — that  he  saw  a  man.  He'll  un- 
derstand !" 

Then  Muggs  dashed  out  to  the  street  again,  sprang 
into  the  roadster,  started  the  engine,  whirled  the  big 
machine  around,  and  pursued  the  taxicab. 

"This  is  tough  luck!"  Muggs  told  himself.  "It's 
a  cinch  that  Landers  knows  this  car.  He'll  spot  it  in 
a  minute,  if  we  get  out  of  the  heavy  traffic!  I  wish 
I  had  the  boss  along!" 

The  taxicab  did  not  make  good  speed  through  the 
traffic,  and  Muggs  remained  about  a  third  of  a  block 
behind  it.  After  a  time  it  turned  into  a  cross  street, 
and  presently  stopped  before  an  exclusive  hotel. 
Muggs  swung  the  roadster  to  the  curb.  He  saw 
Landers  get  out,  pay  the  chauffeur,  and  disappear 
into  the  hotel. 


I46  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Muggs  was  out  of  the  car  instantly,  and  hurrying 
forward.  He  approached  the  entrance,  and  glanced 
in.  Landers  had  not  stopped  at  the  desk,  but  had 
gone  directly  to  an  elevator.  That  meant  that  he  was 
a  guest,  or  a  frequent  visitor. 

When  the  elevator  came  down  again,  Muggs  hur- 
ried over  and  spoke  to  the  boy. 

"The  gent  that  just  rode  up  with  you "  he 

began. 

"Mr.  Smith?" 

"Maybe  his  name's  Smith — I  don't  know.  I  just 
wanted  to  find  out  where  he  went — got  a  message 
for  him — phoned  it  from  the  office  over  there." 

"He  comes  here  to  visit  Miss  Whaley  and  her 
elder  sister,"  the  boy  explained.  "You  just  ring  up 
No.  256,  and  I  guess  you  can  get  him." 

Muggs  went  across  the  lobby  and  into  a  telephone 
booth.  But  he  did  not  call  room  256.  He  called 
Verbeck  at  Miss  Wendell's  apartment,  and  got  him 
on  the  wire. 

"I  spotted  Landers,  boss!"  he  said.  "I  trailed  him 
to  the  New  Nortonia  Hotel.  He  calls  himself  Smith 
here,  and  he  visits  a  couple  of  women  who  call  them- 
selves Whaley;  they're  in  room  256." 

"Great!"  Verbeck  cried.  "Stay  there  until  I  come 
over,  Muggs;  I'll  start  right  away." 

"Suppose  he  leaves  before  you  get  here,  boss?" 

"Then  trail  him,  Muggs,  and  telephone  to  me  as 
soon  as  you  can.  I'll  go  back  home  if  I  miss  you!" 

Muggs  went  out  on  the  street  again  and  got  into 
the  roadster.  He  moved  the  car  a  bit  nearer  the 
hotel,  and  then  thought  better  of  it  and  circled  to  the 
other  side  of  the  street.  And  there  he  remained, 
watching  the  entrance  of  the  hotel. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MUGGS  MEETS  DISASTER 

MUGGS  knew  that  it  would  take  his  master  some 
time  to  get  there  from  the  apartment  house,  and 
he  hoped  that  Landers  would  remain  in  the  hotel  until 
Verbeck  arrived.  Muggs  began  speculating,  too,  as 
to  the  identity  of  the  two  Misses  Whaley.  Probably 
they  were  members  of  the  Black  Star's  organization. 

Muggs  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  Before 
ten  minutes  had  passed,  he  saw  Landers  come  from 
the  hotel  and  start  walking  up  the  street.  Muggs 
wheeled  the  roadster,  and  followed  slowly.  Landers 
was  on  the  opposite  side. 

"I  hope  he  don't  look  this  way  and  spot  me!" 
Muggs  growled.  "He  sure  would  remember  this  car. 
There  ain't  another  like  it  in  town,  and  he  saw  plenty 
of  it  when  we  were  after  the  big  crook  before.  I 
sure  hope  he  don't  look  this  way!" 

It  appeared  that  Muggs  was  to  have  his  wish. 
Landers  walked  briskly  down  the  street  for  three 
blocks,  and  then  stepped  to  the  curb.  A  big  touring 
car  was  standing  there,  and  Landers  spoke  to  the 
chauffeur  and  sprang  in.  The  car  started  down  the 
avenue,  and  Muggs  followed  in  the  roadster. 

The  touring  car  cut  across  the  city,  following  the 
boulevards  and  keeping  away  from  the  busy  streets, 
and  it  appeared  to  Muggs  that  the  chauffeur  was  try- 
ing to  make  speed.  After  a  time  it  turned  into  the 
street  that  led  to  the  river  drive,  and  the  speed  be- 
came higher. 


J48  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Drivin'  for  his  health,  is  he?"  Muggs  asked  him- 
self, and  then  answered:  "Not  any,  he  ain't.  That 
bird's  got  all  the  health  he  needs.  It's  coin  he's  after 
— other  folks'  coin!" 

Mile  after  mile  Muggs  followed  the  car  ahead,  now 
creeping  up  closer  when  there  was  traffic,  now  drop- 
ping behind  so  there  would  be  no  suspicion  that  he 
was  deliberately  following.  Muggs  knew  that  the 
roadster  he  was  driving  could  overhaul  the  other  car 
at  any  time.  He  had  made  a  note  of  the  other  car's 
number,  too. 

Then  they  reached  the  pleasure  resort,  and  the  car 
ahead  turned  in.  Muggs  promptly  followed. 

"Must  be  out  for  his  health,  after  all,"  he  mused. 
"Maybe  he's  goin'  to  meet  some  more  of  the  gang  out 
here.  It'd  be  a  good  place  at  that,  in  all  this  crowd." 

On  seeing  Landers  get  out,  he  parked  the  roadster 
and  followed  his  man.  Landers  walked  down  to  the 
water  front  and  watched  the  bathers.  Muggs  watched 
him  from  a  corner  where  he  could  not  be  seen.  He 
saw  that  Landers  glanced  around  now  and  then,  as 
if  to  search  for  some  one,  or  to  see  whether  there 
was  an  enemy  near. 

Then  Landers  began  walking  along  the  shore  of 
the  river,  and  presently  turned  into  a  little  grove 
and  made  his  way  toward  a  road  that  ran  through 
the  woods. 

"Now  we  get  it!"  Muggs  said.  "Here's  where  he 
meets  some  of  the  gang.  I  wish  the  boss  was  here!" 

Muggs  followed  him  cautiously  through  the  woods, 
careful  not  to  attract  attention.  They  came  to  a 
lane,  and  Landers  turned  down  it,  glanced  around, 
and  then  began  walking  faster. 

Muggs   remained   in   the   woods,   but   followed  as 


MUGGS  MEETS  DISASTER  149 

swiftly  as  he  could.  He  managed  to  keep  Landers  in 
sight.  After  a  time  he  saw  his  quarry  leave  the  lane 
and  plunge  into  the  woods  again,  cut  through  them, 
and  come  out  where  there  was  a  clearing  and  an  old 
farmhouse  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  trees. 

Crouching  behind  a  clump  of  brush,  Muggs 
watched  Landers  stoop  and  pick  up  something.  The 
man's  back  was  turned  and  Muggs  could  not  see 
what  he  was  doing.  Presently  he  got  up,  walked  to 
the  gate,  stood  there  a  moment,  and  then  opened  it 
and  passed  inside.  He  took  great  care,  Muggs 
thought,  to  see  that  the  gate  was  closed  and  latched 
again. 

The  valet  remained  where  he  was  for  several  min- 
utes, and  then  crept  forward  under  the  brush  until 
he  reached  the  spot  where  he  had  seen  Landers  stoop. 
He  felt  around  there — and  found  a  telephone. 

"Ha!"  Muggs  said  to  himself.  "This  is  a  funny 
thing  to  find  around  here.  He  phoned  before  he 
opened  that  gate,  too!  I've  got  an  idea  that  fence 
ain't  a  pleasant  thing  to  touch,  and  I  ain't  goin'  to 
try  it  until  I  know.  I  wish  the  boss  was  here !" 

He  put  the  telephone  back,  crept  on  through  the 
brush,  and  watched  the  house.  There  was  nobody 
in  sight. 

"I'll  bet  that's  the  big  crook's  headquarters,  or  one 
of  his  branches  where  he  plans  things,"  Muggs  told 
himself.  "And  I  ain't  man  enough  to  tackle  it  alone. 
The  thing  for  me  to  do  is  get  back  and  phone  the 
boss,  and  get  him  out  here  with  a  gang!" 

Muggs  started  to  back  through  the  brush.  He 
heard  a  step  behind  him,  then  whirled  and  tried  to 
get  to  his  feet.  He  found  himself  in  the  clutches  of 
two  men  dressed  as  fishermen. 


ISO  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

In  his  younger  days,  Muggs  had  enjoyed  a  reputa- 
tion for  being  an  excellent  rough-and-tumble  fighter. 
He  still  retained  some  of  his  strength  and  all  his 
knowledge  of  how  to  conduct  such  a  combat.  He 
uttered  no  word,  but  went  into  action. 

He  kicked,  struck,  tried  to  bite  and  to  get  his 
thumbs  into  the  eyes  of  one  of  his  antagonists,  ignor- 
ing all  rules  of  fistic  combat,  striving  only  to  be 
victor.  But  he  found  that  he  was  fighting  men  who 
were  used  to  such  tactics. 

Back  and  forth  across  the  ground  they  fought  and 
wrestled,  until  Muggs'  breath  was  coming  in  gasps, 
he  was  seeing  red,  and  he  felt  his  strength  going. 
Another  fisherman  crashed  through  the  brush  and 
threw  himself  into  the  fray — and  Muggs  went  down 
from  a  blow  to  his  chin. 

He  came  back  to  consciousness  to  find  two  of  the 
fishermen  bending  over  him,  one  of  them  throwing 
water  in  his  face.  He  struggled  to  get  up,  but  they 
held  him  securely.  Then  he  saw  that  he  was  not  out 
of  doors,  but  in  the  house. 

"No  more  fightin'  for  you  just  now!"  one  of  the 
fishermen  growled  at  him. 

"Let  me  up,  and  I'll  show  you!"  Muggs  said. 
"What  you  mean  jumpin'  me  like  you  did?" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  snoopin'  around  and  in- 
vestigatin'  things  you  ain't  got  any  business  in- 
vestigatin'  ?" 

"I  don't  remember  investigatin'  anything.  Can't 
a  man  bum  through  the  woods  any  more?  Is  there 
a  law  agin'  it?" 

"There  is  in  this  particular  section  of  the  woods," 
the  fisherman  replied.  "And  you  needn't  try  to  run 
any  bluff,  either.  We  watched  you  lookin'  at  that 


MUGGS  MEETS  DISASTER  151 

telephone — and   we   was   watchin'   you   before   that, 
trailin'  a  man." 

"Yeh?"  Muggs  asked. 

"Yeh!  And  now  you're  goin'  to  do  a  little  ex- 
plainin'." 

"Let's  see  you  make  me!"  Muggs  exclaimed. 

"We  ain't  goin'  to  try  to  make  yeh.  There's  an- 
other man  to  do  that.  You  get  up  and  we'll  tie  your 
hands  behind  your  back,  in  case  you  want  to  get 
violent  and  beat  somebody  up.  And  if  you  start  a 
fight  again,  we'll  just  wallop  the  everlastin'  face  off 
you.  Get  me?" 

They  lifted  Muggs  up.  He  started  to  struggle, 
but  was  no  match  for  them.  They  held  him,  and 
lashed  his  wrists  together  behind  his  back  with  fish 
cord.  Then  they  thrust  him  along  a  narrow  hall  and 
to  a  door. 

One  of  them  pressed  a  button,  and  Muggs  heard  a 
bell  tinkle.  Then  a  buzzer  sounded. 

"In  you  go!"  one  of  the  fishermen  said. 

They  opened  the  door  and  thrust  him  forward, 
and  he  heard  the  door  slammed  behind  him.  Muggs 
blinked  his  eyes  rapidly,  for  the  hall  had  been  half 
dark,  and  the  apartment  in  which  he  now  stood  was 
lighted  brilliantly. 

He  saw  a  room  with  expensive  furnishings.  M 
long  table  was  in  the  middle  of  it,  heavy  chairs  were 
scattered  around,  and  before  him  was  a  man  dressed 
in  a  black  robe,  with  a  black  mask  on  his  face,  and  a 
flaming  star  of  jet  on  his  hood. 

"Greetings,  my  dear  Muggs!"  the  Black  Star  said. 
"I  regret  it  if  some  of  my  men  handled  you  roughly, 
but  then  you  are  inclined  to  violence  yourself." 

"You — you "  Muggs  gasped. 


152  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Be  seated,  Muggs.  You  must  be  fatigued  after 
your  recent  exertions.  I  understand  that  you  put  up 
a  good  fight." 

"I'll  put  up  a  better  one  if  I  ever  get  a  chance  at 
you!"  Muggs  growled.  "I'll  show  you  how  to  make 
fun  of  my  boss  in  the  newspapers!  You  big  crook!" 

"That  is  not  an  insult,  my  dear  Muggs,  but  a 
compliment.  I  flatter  myself  that  I  am  a  big  crook. 
Please  sit  down." 

Muggs  complied.  He  was  still  weak  from  the 
fight,  and  he  felt  that  he  wanted  to  gather  what 
strength  he  could,  for  use  in  case  an  opportunity 
presented  itself. 

"I  understand  that  you  followed  a  certain  member 
of  my  organization,"  the  Black  Star  went  on.  "I 
have  rebuked  him  for  his  carelessness.  Since  you 
have  discovered  my  location,  I  cannot  allow  you  your 
freedom,  of  course,  and  have  you  bring  the  police 
down  upon  me.  I  make  it  a  point,  as  perhaps  you 
learned  before,  to  change  my  headquarters  now  and 
then.  But  I  am  very  comfortable  and  safe  here,  and 
have  no  intention  of  moving  for  some  time.  So 
you  are  to  be  my  guest,  Muggs,  until  I  do  decide  to 
move." 

"That's  what  you  say!"  Muggs  exclaimed. 

"I  scarcely  think  you'll  escape,  Muggs,  if  that  is 
what  is  in  your  mind.  And,  if  you  behave  yourself, 
I  may  show  you  some  very  interesting  things.  I 
shall  feed  you  well,  Muggs,  and  give  you  plenty  of 
cigarettes.  What  more  can  man  desire?  I  do  this 
because  I  admire  your  loyalty  to  your  employer.  Per- 
haps, if  I  keep  you  prisoner,  and  so  inform  him,  he 
will  exert  himself  and  add  spice  to  our  little  game. 


MUGGS  MEETS  DISASTER  153. 

Mr.  Verbeck  hasn't  betrayed  any  great  amount  o£ 
cleverness  recently,  you  know." 

"Is  that  so?"  Muggs  retorted.  "He  could,  if  he 
wanted  to,  I  guess!  It  looks  as  if  you  don't  read 
the  newspapers.  My  boss  ain't  in  the  game  any 
more.  He  and  the  chief  had  a  scrap!" 

"Oh,  my  dear  Muggs!  Give  me  credit  for  having 
some  intelligence,  and  some  clever  people  in  my 
organization.  I  happen  to  know  that  it  is  all  a  trick 
— and  not  a  very  clever  trick  at  that.  I  know  the 
arrangement  he  made  with  the  chief.  Thought  I'd 
take  my  eyes  off  him,  didn't  he?  Utter  rot!" 

"I  tell  you  he  had  a  scrap " 

"If  that  is  so — if  Verbeck  is  no  longer  trying  to- 
capture  me — why  do  you  betray  so  much  interest  in 
my  affairs?"  the  Black  Star  demanded.  "Why  did 
you  follow  my  man  to-day?  Why  did  you  trail  him 
through  the  woods?  Muggs,  your  story  is  weak." 

Muggs  saw  that  it  was,  but  he  wasn't  willing  to 
admit  it. 

"I  didn't  say  I  had  quit,  did  I?"  he  asked.  "Maybe 
I'm  after  you  on  my  own  hook.  There's  a  fat  re- 
ward up,  ain't  there?" 

"That's  not  at  all  clever,  Muggs.  But  we  need 
talk  along  this  line  no  more.  We  understand  each 
other,  Muggs.  You  are  my  enforced  guest  for  a 
time,  and  I  trust  that  you'll  appreciate  my  hospitality. 
If  you  start  causing  trouble,  I  shall  be  forced  to  de- 
scend to  means  I  abhor — and  use  violence !" 

"You  untie  my  hands  and  take  off  that  fool  robe, 
and  I'll  give  you  all  the  violence  you  want!"  Muggs 
cried.  "Maybe  I  can't  fight  half  a  dozen  thugs  of 
your  gang,  but  I  can  handle  you,  all  right,  without 
any  help!" 


154  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I  fear  that  I  must  refuse  to  accept  the  challenge, 
Muggs.  I  have  work  to  do,  and  it  would  be  delayed 
if  you  happened  to  lay  me  up  for  a  few  days.  Per- 
haps, some  other  time " 

"Yellow  streak!"  Muggs  taunted. 

"Take  care!"  the  Black  Star  thundered  angrily. 
"You  may  go  too  far,  my  man!" 

"Don't  you  'my  man'  me !  Even  my  boss  don't  do 
that,  and  no  crook's  goin'  to!  Not  on  your  life!" 

"Then  do  not  make  me  lose  my  temper,"  the  Black 
Star  said.  "Go  over  to  that  couch  and  make  your- 
self comfortable,  Muggs.  You  may  see  and  hear 
some  interesting  things.  Since  you  are  to  be  my 
guest  for  some  time,  until  a  certain  thing  is  accom- 
plished, I  do  not  care  how  much  you  learn.  I  have 
an  idea  that  some  of  my  people  are  about  to  report." 

Muggs,  a  sudden  gleam  in  his  eye,  got  up  and 
went  over  to  the  couch.  It  was  like  the  Black  Star 
to  let  him  overhear  orders  and  commands;  and  there 
always  was  a  chance  that  he  could  escape  and  give 
the  alarm.  He  needed  rest  now  to  gather  his 
strength.  He  would  wait,  learn  all  that  he  could, 
catch  the  Black  Star  off  guard  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  effect  an  escape. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IMPORTANT    INFORMATION 

THE  Black  Star  watched  him  closely  as  he  sat 
down  on  the  couch  and  tried  to  make  himself 
comfortable,  which  was  a  difficult  thing  for  him  to 
do  with  his  wrists  lashed  behind  his  back. 

"Muggs,"  he  said,  "where  did  you  pick  up 
Landers?" 

"What  you  talkin'  about?" 

"You  know  very  well.  You  followed  Landers  out 
here,  and  some  of  my  men  saw  you  trailing  him,  saw 
you  find  the  telephone.  You  know  Landers  well,  for 
he  was  one  of  my  old  organization  and  escaped  when 
Verbeck  caught  me  and  scattered  my  men." 

"What  difference  does  it  make?"  Muggs  asked. 
"I  picked  him  up,  didn't  I  ?" 

"I  give  you  credit  for  it,  Muggs.  But  just  where 
did  you  pick  him  up?  If  any  of  my  men  are  care- 
less, I  want  to  know  it.  Was  it  Landers'  careless- 
ness or  your  cleverness?" 

"I  saw  the  big  stiff  walkin'  along  the  street  and 
gettin'  into  an  auto,  and  trailed  him,"  Muggs  said. 

"Very  good!"  replied  the  Black  Star. 

Muggs  felt  sure  that  there  was  a  note  of  keen 
satisfaction  in  the  Black  Star's  speech,  and  he 
guessed  the  reason  for  it.  The  master  crook  thought 
Muggs  meant  that  he  had  seen  Landers  getting  into 
the  touring  car.  He  was  worrying  for  fear  Muggs 
knew  of  his  visit  to  the  hotel. 


156  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Some  more  of  the  gang  there — them  Whaley 
women!"  Muggs  told  himself. 

A  bell  on  the  wall  tinkled,  and  the  Black  Star  hur- 
ried to  one  end  of  the  room  and  pressed  a  button. 

"I  must  ask  you  to  remain  perfectly  quiet,  Muggs," 
he  warned.  "You  may  see  all  you  like,  since  you'll 
never  be  able  to  give  out  the  information  soon 
enough  to  hurt  my  plans,  but  you  must  not  speak 
when  any  of  my  people  are  in  the  room.  Be  good, 
Muggs,  and  I'll  have  your  hands  untied  after  a 
while." 

The  door  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  was  opened, 
and  a  robed  and  masked  man  came  in  and  went  to 
the  blackboard.  He  regarded  Muggs  carefully,  but 
the  Black  Star  motioned  for  him  to  proceed. 

"Number  Two,"  he  wrote. 

"Countersign?" 

"Bennington." 

"Report,"  wrote  the  Black  Star,  and  as  Muggs 
watched  they  held  their  conversation  on  the  black- 
boards, writing  and  erasing,  neither  speaking  a  word. 

"Invitation  list  includes  all  prominent  and  wealthy 
persons  in  the  city  and  some  from  out  of  town," 
wrote  Number  Two. 

"Date  remains  the  same?" 

"Yes;  to-morrow  night." 

"How  about  detectives?" 

"Four — two  men  and  two  women — from  the  usual 
agency.  We  cannot  handle  any  of  them  by  the  cus- 
tomary means,  but  they  will  not  be  hard  to  get  out 
of  the  way." 

"Make  arrangements  for  doing  so,"  wrote  the 
Black  Star.  "If  you  need  help,  ask  for  it  to-morrow 


IMPORTANT  INFORMATION  157 

morning.  What  arrangements  have  been  made  about 
refreshments?" 

"A  caterer  is  to  serve  them.  Two  of  the  waiters 
are  our  men." 

"Good!    Anything  special  regarding  possible  loot?" 

"Since  it  is  such  an  affair,  all  the  women  are  likely 
to  wear  their  most  expensive  jewels,"  wrote  Number 
Two.  "Social  rivalry  that  exists  at  present  will  tend 
toward  this." 

"That  is  all  for  the  present.     Retire!" 

Number  Two  erased  what  was  written,  bowed,  and 
backed  through  the  door.  The  Black  Star  glanced  at 
a  little  clock  that  stood  on  the  table  before  him. 

"I  have  a  few  minutes  before  the  next  man  re- 
ports, Muggs,"  he  said,  "and  so  I'll  be  glad  to  ex- 
plain in  part.  I  presume  you  have  heard  of  our  fair 
city's  society  leader,  Mrs.  Richard  Branniton?" 

"Sure !"  said  Muggs. 

"She  is  giving  quite  an  affair  to-morrow  evening 
at  her  palatial  residence,  Muggs.  Her  husband,  if 
you  happen  to  remember,  was  the  district  attorney 
who  prosecuted  me  when  I  was  on  trial  recently.  At 
this  reception  and  ball,  she  is  to  entertain  two  promi- 
nent diplomats  who  are  visiting  in  the  city.  The 
cream  of  the  city's  wealth  and  society  will  be  present, 
Muggs.  It  will  be  some  party!" 

"Well,  what  about  it?  I  ain't  invited,"  Muggs 
growled. 

"You  may  be  a  guest  at  that,  Muggs;  I  may  take 
you  with  me." 

"Oh!  You're  invited,  are  you?"  Muggs  asked 
sarcastically. 

"No;  but  I  am  going.  It  isn't  quite  the  thing  to 
go  to  an  affair  to  which  you  have  received  no  invita- 


158  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

tion,  yet  I  intend  doing  it,  Muggs.  There  are  times 
when  I  am  not  strictly  conventional,  as  you  may  have 
guessed.  I  am  going,  Muggs — and  I  am  going  to 
take  about  twenty  or  thirty  of  my  best  men  with 
me." 

"It'll  sure  be  some  party,  then!" 

"There  will  be  a  few  exciting  moments,  I  doubt 
not.  You  see,  Muggs,  the  ladies  will  wear  fortunes 
in  jewels — and  I  love  jewels.  Besides,  they  are 
worth  money  when  properly  marketed.  I  shall  strip 
Mrs.  Richard  Branniton's  guests  of  their  precious 
jewels.  This  will  injure  that  lady  socially  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  and  thereby  hurt  Mr.  Branniton,  who  was 
quite  nasty  at  the  time  of  my  trial." 

"He  wasn't  nasty  enough!" 

"Oh,  well,  you  are  prejudiced,  Muggs.  And  the 
jewels  are  not  all,  Muggs.  We  are  going  to  abduct 
those  two  famous  diplomats  and  hold  them  for  ran- 
som. Is  not  that  a  master  stroke?  I  certainly  am  a 
big  crook,  am  I  not?" 

"You  can't  get  away  with  it!"  Muggs  said. 

"Nonsense!  We  have  a  place  prepared  to  which 
we  shall  take  them.  We  have  a  method  of  collecting 
the  ransom  when  it  is  paid — a  safe  method.  And  it 
will  be  paid,  Muggs — two  hundred  thousand  dollars 
for  each  man.  You  see,  they  are  here  on  inter- 
national business,  and  very  important  business  at  that. 
It  will  be  necessary  to  secure  their  release  at  once. 
If  it  is  not  accomplished,  there  might  be  trouble  with 
a  certain  other  country.  Oh,  we  have  it  all  planned, 
Muggs,  and  the  job  will  not  be  so  difficult  as  others  I 
have  handled." 

"You  go  to  monkeyin*  with  the  government,  and 


IMPORTANT  INFORMATION  159 

you'll  get  yours  good  and  plenty!"  Muggs  warned 
him. 

"I  fear  no  government,  Muggs!  I  tell  you,  our 
plans  are  perfect.  The  ransom  will  be  paid  within 
three  days." 

The  Black  Star  went  to  the  table,  opened  a  drawer, 
and  consulted  a  memorandum  book.  Again  the  little 
bell  on  the  wall  tinkled.  Once  more  the  Black  Star 
pressed  a  button  and  a  robed  and  masked  man  en- 
tered and  stepped  up  to  the  blackboard. 

"Number  Four,"  he  wrote. 

"Countersign?" 

"Delaware." 

"Report,"  wrote  the  Black  Star. 

"Lord  Sambery  and  Sir  Burton  Banks  will  arrive 
to-morrow  morning  at  ten  o'clock  and  be  taken  at 
once  to  the  Branniton  residence.  They  will  have 
luncheon  there,  and  then  be  taken  for  a  drive  through 
the  city." 

"How  many  will  be  in  the  party?" 

"Just  the  luncheon  party — perhaps  fifteen." 

"What  else?"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 

"Diplomats  will  return  to  the  Branniton  residence 
and  remain  for  the  reception.  Arrangements  you 
ordered  have  been  made." 

"Good!"  the  Black  Star  wrote.  "Report  at  usual 
time  to-morrow  for  additional  orders.  Retire !" 

The  man  bowed  and  backed  through  the  door.  The 
Black  Star  turned  toward  Muggs  again. 

"Oh,  it  is  a  wonderful  organization,  my  dear 
Muggs!"  he  said.  "It  is  far  more  wonderful  than 
the  one  I  had  before." 

"I  ain't  carin'  much  about  it !"  Muggs  said.   "These 


160  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

blamed  cords  are  cuttin'   my  wrists,  and  my  nose 
itches  and  I  can't  scratch  it!" 

"Suppose  I  untie  you?" 

"You'd  better  watch  me,  if  you  do." 

"Ah!  That  is  what  I  thought,"  the  master  crook 
said.  "You  retain  your  violent  nature,  I  see.  One 
of  these  days  you  will  realize  the  futility  of  it, 
Muggs." 

"I'll  realize  my  life  ambition  by  beatin'  you  up!" 
Muggs  replied.  "You  goin'  to  take  off  these  cords?" 

"Not  that.  But  Til  have  your  wrists  tied  in  front, 
so  you  will  be  able  to  scratch  your  nose,"  said  the 
Black  Star,  chuckling. 

He  opened  the  hall  door  and  called  two  of  the 
fishermen  into  the  room.  For  some  reason,  it  ap- 
peared, the  fishermen  did  not  wear  robes  and  masks 
before  the  Black  Star,  and  evidently  did  not  care  that 
Muggs  saw  their  faces. 

The  master  rogue  issued  his  orders,  and  the  two 
men  untied  Muggs'  wrists,  lashed  them  again  in 
front  of  him,  and  then  hurried  away. 

"Now  you  may  scratch  your  nose,"  the  Black  Star 
said.  "I  suppose  you'll  be  trying  to  free  yourself, 
too.  Allow  me  to  tell  you,  Muggs,  that  you'd  not 
get  very  far  if  you  did." 

"I  noticed  Landers  wait  until  the  current  was 
turned  off  that  fence,"  Muggs  said. 

"Ah!  You  know  about  that,  do  you?  But  that 
is  only  one  thing  among  many,  my  dear  Muggs.  I'd 
advise  you  to  be  a  contented  prisoner  for  the  time 
being.  You'll  gain  nothing  by  trying  to  escape." 

"Well,  how  long  are  you  goin'  to  keep  me  here?" 

"Until  I  move  to  my  next  headquarters,  I  said." 

"And  when'll  that  be?" 


IMPORTANT  INFORMATION  161 

"In  two  weeks  possibly.  Until  then,  Muggs,  you 
must  be  one  of  us.  When  I  move,  I'll  have  you 
dropped  somewhere  in  town,  and  you  can  tell  Ver- 
beck and  the  newspapers  all  you  saw  and  heard. 
You'll  be  getting  your  picture  on  the  front  page, 
Muggs." 

Again  the  bell  tinkled,  and  once  more  a  robed  and 
masked  man  entered  and  stepped  to  the  blackboard. 
He  gave  his  number  and  countersign. 

"Report,"  wrote  the  Black  Star. 

"It  is  as  you  thought — Verbeck  is  still  after  us." 

"Anything  more  about  Verbeck?" 

"He  visited  his  fiancee  this  afternoon,  and  after- 
ward took  a  taxi  and  got  out  at  a  busy  corner.  He 
remained  there  for  some  time,  and  then  went  home. 
He  acted  as  if  he  was  waiting  for  somebody." 

"Anything  else?" 

"Verbeck's  roadster  is  at  the  resort  down  the 
river,  and  has  been  there  for  several  hours.  We 
didn't  see  Verbeck." 

"His  chauffeur  left  it  there;  that  is  his  chauffeur 
on  the  couch,"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 

The  man  at  the  other  blackboard  turned  and  re- 
garded Muggs  through  the  slits  in  his  mask.  Muggs 
knew  what  that  meant.  Here  was  a  man  who  was 
not  acquainted  with  him,  but  hereafter  he  would 
know  Roger  Verbeck's  chauffeur  when  he  saw  him. 

"Anything  else?"  the  Black  Star  wrote  again. 

"Sheriff  Kowen  is  swearing  in  more  deputies,  and 
some  of  them  are  experienced  officers  who  have  re- 
tired." 

"Anything  from  police  headquarters?" 

"Nothing,  sir,  except  that  the  chief  is  keeping  in 


162  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

communication  with  Verbeck  through  some  third 
person.  We  have  not  located  this  person  yet.'* 

"Do  so  as  soon  as  possible,  and  let  me  know  the 
result  over  the  telephone,"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 
"That  is  all!" 

The  masked  man  bowed  and  backed  through  the 
door.  Once  more  the  master  crook  faced  Muggs. 

"You  see,  my  dear  Muggs,  I  find  out  everything," 
he  said.  "I  could  tell  you  what  Roger  Verbeck  had 
to  eat  at  breakfast  this  morning.  How  can  a  man 
like  Verbeck  expect  to  win  against  an  organization 
such  as  mine?" 

"He'll  win,  all  right!"  Muggs  growled.  "He'll  get 
you  before  he  quits  1" 


CHAPTER  XX 

ON     THE    TRAIL 

HAVING  received  Muggs'  startling  telephone  mes- 
sage that  he  was  trailing  Landers,  the  master 
crook's  trusted  lieutenant,  Roger  Verbeck  left  his 
fiancee,  hurried  from  the  apartment  house,  engaged 
a  taxicab,  and  had  the  chauffeur  drive  him  to  the 
New  Nortonia  Hotel  as  quickly  as  possible. 

He  got  out  of  the  cab  half  a  block  away  from  the 
hotel  entrance,  and  looked  around  for  the  roadster 
and  Muggs,  but  failed  to  find  them.  Verbeck's  en- 
thusiasm began  to  die  instantly.  He  had  hoped  to 
find  Muggs  still  there,  to  join  him,  possibly  to  follow 
Landers  until  he  met  more  of  the  gang. 

For  half  an  hour  Verbeck  loitered  around  the^ 
corner,  and  then  he  decided  that  Muggs  had  been 
forced  to  go  on  alone,  that,  Landers  had  left  the 
hotel  and  Muggs  had  been  afraid  to  remain  behind, 
lest  he  lose  his  man.  So  Verbeck  went  home  to  await 
another  telephone  message,  as  he  had  told  Muggs  he 
would  do. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour,  he  had  received  no  mes- 
sage. He  paced  the  floor,  consumed  several  ciga- 
rettes, and  began  worrying  a  bit  about  it.  That 
Muggs  was  the  sort  of  man  to  rush  into  trouble, 
Verbeck  knew  well.  Muggs  was  inclined  to  fight 
first  and  think  about  things  afterward.  If  Muggs 
had  located  Landers,  and  Landers  did  not  know  it, 
there  were  several  possibilities. 


164  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Muggs  might  have  followed  the  Black  Star's  lieu- 
tenant to  the  master  crook's  headquarters,  or  been 
decoyed  to  some  other  place  and  made  prisoner.  It 
was  the  silence  of  Muggs  that  bothered  Roger  Ver- 
beck.  Surely  he  could  have  managed  to  get  to  a 
telephone  within  an  hour,  Verbeck  thought. 

Verbeck  waited  for  another  hour,  and  still  had  re- 
ceived no  message  from  Muggs.  He  called  a  certain 
number  himself,  and  spoke  at  length  to  the  man 
who  answered  him,  and  who  would  relay  the  message 
to  the  chief  of  police  by  word  of  mouth. 

"Muggs  spotted  one  of  the  Black  Star's  men  and 
started  to  follow  him,"  Verbeck  said.  "He  hasn't 
reported  to  me  since.  Tell  the  chief  to  have  all  the 
men  on  the  force  look  for  my  roadster,  as  Muggs 
was  driving  it.  Muggs  may  need  help.  And  wher- 
ever that  roadster  is  found,  some  of  the  Black  Star's 
men  may  be  in  the  neighborhood.  Understand? 
Possibly  Muggs  has  not  had  a  chance  to  communi- 
cate with  me.  He  may  be  a  prisoner." 

Roger  Verbeck  continued  to  pace  the  floor  of  his 
living  room  and  wait.  Half  an  hour  afterward  his 
telephone  bell  rang,  and  he  hastened  to  answer,  hop- 
ing that  the  call  was  from  Muggs,  and  that  it  would 
lead  to  the  apprehension  of  the  Black  Star  or  some 
of  his  people. 

"Mr.  Verbeck?"  asked  a  voice. 

"Yes." 

"Good  afternoon.  I  trust  that  you  are  in  excellent 
health.  This  is  the  Black  Star  speaking!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  want?"  Verbeck  growled. 

"Aren't  you  rather  discourteous  this  afternoon?  I 
have  important  news  for  you,  too.  Your  man, 
Muggs  is  making  me  an  extended  visit  at  my  head- 


ON  THE  TRAIL  165 

quarters.  That  is  what  I  wished  to  let  you  know. 
He  followed  a  member  of  my  band,  and  stumbled 
upon  the  place.  Some  more  of  my  men  subdued 
him.  I  must  keep  him  here  now,  of  course,  but  I 
shall  take  good  care  of  him,  I  assure  you." 

"You'd  better!"  Verbeck  said. 

"And  your  splendid  roadster,  Mr.  Verbeck — 
Muggs  was  driving  it,  as  you  know.  I  have  had 
one  of  my  men  take  it  downtown  and  leave  it  in 
front  of  the  public  library.  You'd  better  hurry  there 
and  get  it,  or  you'll  be  fined  for  leaving  it  standing 
in  the  street  so  long.  I  couldn't  leave  it  where 
Muggs  deserted  it,  you  know;  that  might  have  given 
a  clew  to  my  whereabouts." 

Then  the  Black  Star  terminated  the  conversation 
abruptly,  and  Roger  Verbeck  slammed  the  receiver 
into  its  hook.  Verbeck  had  hoped  that  the  discovery 
of  his  roadster  would  put  the  police  and  himself  on 
the  right  trail. 

Once  more  Verbeck  called  the  go-between,  and  had 
the  chief  of  police  informed  of  his  conversation  with 
the  Black  Star.  Then  he  called  the  office  of  the 
sheriff. 

"That  you,  Kowen?"  he  asked.  "This  is  Roger 
Verbeck.  It  has  been  given  out,  as  you  know,  that 
I  am  no  longer  working  with  the  police,  and  I  am  not 
certain  whether  the  Black  Star  believes  it,  or  not, 
though  I  scarcely  think  that  he  does.  So  I  don't 
want  to  call  on  the  police  for  help  just  now.  I  wish 
you'd  hurry  right  up  here  to  my  place,  Kowen. 
I've  got  an  important  clew.  And  have  one  of  your 
men  go  to  the  corner  by  the  New  Nortonia  Hotel 
and  wait  there  for  us,  will  you?  We  may  need  him." 


i66  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I'll  send  a  good  man  there,  and  I'll  be  with  you 
in  fifteen  minutes!"  Kowen  declared. 

The  sheriff  was  as  good  as  his  word.  A  quarter 
of  an  hour  later  he  was  sitting  before  the  table  in 
Verbeck's  living  room,  puffing  at  a  cigar  Verbeck 
had  given  him. 

"Well,  Verbeck,  what's  the  idea?"  he  wanted  to 
know.  "If  you've  got  a  clew  to  that  crook's  where- 
abouts, for  Heaven's  sake  let's  get  busy  on  it.  If 
we  don't  land  him  pretty  quick,  the  dear  public  will 
be  running  us  out  of  town." 

"I  visited  my  fiancee  this  afternoon,"  Verbeck  said, 
"and  left  Muggs  sitting  in  the  roadster.  A  few  min- 
utes later,  the  clerk  in  the  apartment  house  tele- 
phoned up  to  me  that  Muggs  had  said  to  tell  me  he 
had  seen  a  man,  and  would  call  me  later. 

"I  knew  what  that  meant,  of  course.  We  had 
been  watching  continually  for  some  of  the  Black 
Star's  old  people.  So  I  waited  eagerly  for  his  mes- 
sage, and  finally  it  came.  The  man  he  had  been 
trailing  was  Landers,  one  of  the  Black  Star's  trusted 
lieutenants.  Muggs  said  he  had  gone  to  the  New 
Nortonia  Hotel,  and  was  visiting  a  couple  of  women 
named  Whaley,  who  had  room  256  there." 

"Some  clew!"  said  the  sheriff. 

"Wait!  I  told  Muggs  I'd  be  right  over,  but  that  if 
Landers  left  the  hotel  to  follow  him  and  call  me  at 
home  later.  When  I  got  over  there,  Muggs  was 
gone.  I  came  home,  and  waited  a  couple  of  hours, 
but  got  no  message  from  him.  Finally  the  Black 
Star  called  me  up.  He  said  he  had  Muggs  at  his 
headquarters  and  would  keep  him  a  prisoner  for  a 
time.  Muggs  stumbled  into  some  sort  of  a  trap,  it 
seems.  We  don't  know  where  the  crook's  headquar- 


ON  THE  TRAIL  167 

ters  are,  of  course.  But  I'm  inclined  to  investigate 
room  256,  at  the  New  Nortonia  Hotel,  sheriff, 
What  do  you  think  about  it?" 

"I  should  say  we  will  investigate  it!"  Kowen  de- 
clared. "If  the  Black  Star's  lieutenant  visits  the  peo- 
ple in  that  room,  I  want  to  know  who  those  people 
are." 

"Muggs  said  they  were  two  sisters  named  Whaley, 
That  means  nothing,  of  course.  They  probably  be- 
long to  the  Black  Star's  gang.  They  may  be  im- 
portant, or  they  may  be  merely  mediums  through 
whom  members  of  the  band  receive  messages  and 
orders  from  one  another.  Now,  we  want  to  go  about 
this  thing  carefully,  sheriff.  We  ought  to  investi- 
gate, but  we  don't  care  to  have  them  know  of  it 
until  we  learn  all  there  is  to  be  learned." 

"I  get  the  idea,"  the  sheriff  agreed.     "Let's  go!" 

"We'll  wait  until  after  dark — which  will  not  be 
more  than  a  couple  of  hours,"  Verbeck  said.  "I'll 
have  some  dinner  sent  up  here,  and  that  will  help  kill 
the  time.  I  visit  that  hotel  now  and  then  myself — 
have  a  bachelor  friend  who  lives  there.  So  the  clerk 
and  elevator  boy  will  think  nothing  of  it  if  we  go 
right  up  without  being  announced.  You  leave  the 
little  details  for  me,  Kowen.  All  I  want  is  your 
official  support — and  your  good  right  arm,  of  course, 
in  case  we  get  into  a  bit  of  trouble." 

"You  can  have  'em  both !"  the  sheriff  said. 

Verbeck  ordered  the  dinner,  and  the  sheriff  in- 
dulged in  a  moment  of  luxury.  Never  before  had 
he  smoked  such  cigars  or  eaten  such  food.  Being  a 
young  man  of  fortune  was  a  good  thing,  Kowen  de- 
cided. He  didn't  see  why  Roger  Verbeck  should  go 


168  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN1 

around  trying  to  round  up  a  master  crook  when  he 
was  so  comfortable  at  home. 

Night  descended,  and  they  left  the  apartment  and 
the  building  by  means  of  a  rear  stairs.  Verbeck  ex- 
plained that  it  was  probable  that  the  Black  Star  had 
somebody  watching  the  place. 

"We  don't  want  them  to  think  we  know  anything 
about  that  hotel,"  he  said.  "We  may  lose  our 
chance  to  nab  some  of  them  if  they  get  an  idea  we 
are  on  the  right  trail." 

They  walked  through  back  streets,  keeping  in  the 
shadows  as  much  as  possible,  and  finally  reached  the 
hostelry.  There,  of  course,  they  had  to  enter  boldly. 
Verbeck  nodded  to  the  clerk  and  hurried  to  the  ele- 
vator with  the  sheriff  at  his  heels.  They  ascended 
to  the  fourth  floor,  where  Verbeck's  friend,  Law- 
rence, lived. 

"We're  here  on  business  connected  with  a  gentle- 
man known  to  fame  as  the  Black  Star,  Lawrence," 
Verbeck  said,  finding  his  friend  in  his  suite. 

"Good  Lord!  Think  I'm  a  member  of  his  gang?" 
Lawrence  asked. 

"Scarcely,  or  we'd  not  be  taking  you  into  our  con- 
fidence," Verbeck  replied.  "Be  a  good  boy,  now,  and 
"help  us,  will  you?" 

"Surely!  That  big  crook  nipped  my  aunt's  dia- 
monds the  last  time  he  was  on  a  rampage,  and  she 
never  got  them  back.  Just  give  me  a  chance  at  him. 
Those  stones  were  to  have  been  mine  some  day." 

"In  that  case,  you  probably  want  revenge,"  said 
Verbeck,  laughing.  "Now,  answer  a  few  questions. 
You've  lived  here  for  three  or  four  years  and  should 
know  something  about  the  place." 


ON  THE  TRAIL  169 

"I  know  all  about  it,"  Lawrence  said. 

"Where  is  room  256?" 

"Ah!  I  had  that  room  when  I  first  came  here, 
before  I  could  get  a  suite.  It's  on  the  second  floor, 
directly  beneath  us  a  couple  of  stories,  with  a  fire 
escape  running  past  its  principal  window." 

"Of  course  there  would  be  a  fire  escape,"  said  Ver- 
beck.  "There  are  times  when  fire  escapes  are  handy 
things.  Lawrence,  do  you  know  the  people  who  have 
that  room  now?  I  understand  a  couple  of  sisters 
live  there — Whaley  by  name." 

"I've  seen  one  of  them  many  times — sour-looking 
old  girl  about  forty.  Freeze  you  with  a  glance,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing — one  of  those  women  a  man  al- 
ways dodges." 

"Sure  she  is  about  forty?" 

"Great  Scott,  don't  I  know  the  sex?  Can't  I  guess 
a  woman's  age  nine  times  out  of  ten?  Aren't  half 
the  girls  in  town  mad  at  me  now  because  I  always  in- 
sist on  doing  it,  and  telling  the  truth  about  my 
guesses?  She's  forty,  and  she's  fat — not  plump,  but 
fat — and  she  always  looks  as  if  she  was  ready  to 
bite." 

"Well,  that  description  doesn't  mean  anything  in 
my  young  life,"  Verbeck  said.  "I  had  hoped  for 
something  different.  How  about  the  other  sister?" 

"I've  glanced  at  her  a  couple  of  times,  but  I 
haven't  seen  her  at  all  recently.  Maybe  she's  ill." 

"What  does  she  look  like — that's  what  I  want  to 
know." 

"Urn!"  said  Lawrence.  "Grace  of  a  gazelle,  my 
boy.  Would  have  made  advances,  my  boy,  if  the 
other  hadn't  frozen  me  with  a  glance." 

"Hair?" 


i;o  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Auburn — distinct  auburn,  the  shade  I  most  pre- 
fer— and  plenty  of  it.  Eyes,  a  sort  of  gray — don't 
know  exactly  what  you'd  call  'em.  And  the  girl  can 
wear  clothes.  There's  a  subtle  perfume  about  her, 
my  boy " 

"And  you  only  glanced  at  her  a  couple  of  times, 
eh?  How  old  do  you  say  she  is?"  Verbeck  asked. 

"Thirty,"  Lawrence  replied.  "Five  feet  six;  weighs 
about  a  hundred  and  twenty-five,  has  magnificent 
shoulders " 

"I  knew  it!"  Verbeck  cried. 

"Can  you  place  her?"  Kowen  asked. 

"It  is  only  a  guess,  of  course,"  said  Verbeck. 
"But  I  think  I  know  who  she  is.  And  I'm  sure 
you'd  be  interested  in  meeting  her,  Kowen.  You'll 
take  such  a  fancy  to  her  that  you'll  probably  want  to 
take  her  to  jail  and  put  her  into  a  cage.  Kowen,  is 
that  man  of  yours  at  the  corner,  do  you  suppose?" 

"If  he  isn't,  he'll  be  fired  pretty  quick!" 

"Go  out  and  find  him,  and  plant  him  beneath  that 
fire  escape.  Tell  him  to  nab  anybody,  man  or 
woman,  who  tries  to  go  down  it.  A  person  can  go 
down  that  escape  to  the  parlor  on  the  first  floor,  you 
know,  step  through  a  window  there,  and  walk  out  the 
front  door  of  the  hotel.  Then  you  hurry  right  back 
here,  Kowen." 

The  sheriff  grasped  his  hat  and  hurried  from  the 
suite.  Verbeck  lighted  a  cigarette,  looking  toward 
the  ceiling  and  smiled. 

"I  say,  what  is  this  all  about?"  Lawrence  de- 
manded. "Let  me  in  on  it,  will  you?  I  haven't  had 
a  bit  of  excitement  for  ages.  I'm  getting  stale, 
man." 


ON  THE  TRAIL  171 

"Callow  youths  such  as  yourself  should  not  run 
into  danger,"  Verbeck  explained. 

"Confound  it,  I'm  no  callow  youth.  I'm  only 
three  years  younger  than  you." 

"But  I  have  had  experience,  Lawrence.  Restrain 
yourself  for  a  few  minutes,  and  you  may  see  some 
excitement.  But  don't  ask  questions  at  the  present 
time.  I  hate  answering  questions.  We  must  wait 
until  the  sheriff  comes  back." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A    TENSE    MOMENT 

OHERIFF  KOWEN  located  his  deputy  instantly, 
***  and  gave  the  man  his  orders.  Then  the  sheriff 
showed  that  there  was  real  stuff  in  him.  He  did 
not  turn  around  and  reenter  the  hotel  by  the  main 
door.  It  had  occurred  to  him  that,  if  any  of  the 
Black  Star's  men  were  on  watch,  they  might  get 
suspicious  if  they  saw  him  around  the  place  too 
much. 

Kowen  walked  down  the  street,  entered  a  cigar 
store,  made  a  purchase,  and  sauntered  on  around  the 
block.  He  darted  into  the  alley  and  reached  the  rear 
of  the  hotel  building,  and  went  in  at  the  servants' 
entrance  when  he  was  sure  that  he  was  not  being 
observed. 

He  exhibited  his  badge  to  the  first  man  he  met, 
and  was  shown  how  to  reach  the  rear  stairs.  By 
this  means  he  mounted  to  the  fourth  floor  and  so 
reached  Lawrence's  suite  again. 

"My  man's  ready,"  he  reported  to  Verbeck.  "If 
anybody  gets  down  that  fire  escape  and  away,  it'll  be 
peculiar.  That  man  can  handle  bad  ones  as  easily 
as  others  handle  infants." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  Lawrence  inquired. 

"The  sheriff  and  I  are  going  to  investigate  room 
256  and  the  inhabitants  thereof,"  Verbeck  replied. 
"We  are  going  to  walk  up  to  the  door  and  knock. 
If  we  find,  when  the  door  is  opened,  that  we  have 


A  TENSE  MOMENT  173 

made  a  mistake,  we  shall  apologize  and  say  some- 
thing about  knocking  at  the  wrong  door.  If  we  find 
that  we  have  not  made  a  mistake,  there  probably  will 
be  fireworks." 

"I  always  did  like  fireworks,"  Lawrence  said.  "Do 
I  get  to  see  these?" 

"You  may  look  from  your  window  all  you  please," 
Verbeck  said.  "But  we  can't  have  you  with  us"  just 
now.  There  may  be  nothing  in  this,  and  there  may 
be  a  lot.  Ready,  sheriff?" 

"You  know  it!"  the  sheriff  answered. 

"Allow  me  to  suggest  that  you  put  your  revolver  in 
your  coat  pocket,  and  put  your  hand  in  the  same 
pocket  and  grasp  the  revolver.  Don't  show  the  wea- 
pon, of  course,  until  we  are  sure  that  we  are  right. 
We  don't  want  to  frighten  innocent  persons,  if  it  can 
be  avoided." 

"Who  do  you  think  is  in  that  room,  Verbeck?" 
Kowen  asked. 

"Let  us  see !"  Verbeck  replied. 

Ignoring  Lawrence's  demand  that  he  be  allowed  to 
accompany  them,  they  left  the  suite  and  walked 
slowly  down  the  stairs.  They  reached  the  second 
floor,  and  went  along  the  hall  until  they  reached  No. 
256.  There  they  stopped,  listened.  They  could  hear 
somebody  talking  inside. 

Verbeck  knocked  smartly  and  then  stepped  close 
to  the  door,  the  sheriff  at  his  side.  The  voices  within 
were  stilled,  but  nobody  answered.  Verbeck  knocked 
again,  and  suddenly  the  door  was  thrown  open. 

Sheriff  Kowen  gasped,  and  his  revolver  was 
whipped  from  his  pocket.  Roger  Verbeck  merely 
chuckled.  The  woman  who  had  opened  the  door 
gave  a  little  screech  and  tried  to  close  it  again,  but 


174  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Verbeck's  foot  prevented.  They  thrust  her  back, 
stepped  inside,  and  closed  the  door  behind  them. 

"Good  evening,  Miss  Blanchard!"  said  Sheriff 
Kowen.  "I  tell  the  truth  when  I  say  that  I  am  de- 
lighted to  see  you!" 

"And  it  is  some  time  since  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  greeting  The  Princess,"  Verbeck  added.  "Pardon 
the  peculiar  manner  of  this  call,  but  we  felt  that  it 
was  necessary." 

The  face  of  the  woman  before  them  had  gone 
white,  and  now  it  flushed.  She  stepped  backward 
into  the  room  as  they  advanced.  Sitting  near  the 
window  was  another  woman — fat  and  forty — and  she 
sprang  to  her  feet. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  intrusion?"  she 
cried.  "I  shall  call  the  office " 

"Calm  yourself,  madam!"  Verbeck  told  her.  "I 
have  not  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaintance,  but  I 
find  you  in  bad  company,  and  that  is  sufficient." 

"Yes,  and  I've  got  a  couple  of  dandy  cells  down  at 
the  county  jail!"  the  sheriff  said.  "They're  all 
cleaned  and  waiting  for  you.  Hot  and  cold  water, 
and  eats  three  times  a  day.  I've  stopped  raiding 
gambling  dens  for  the  moment  and  am  taking  up  an- 
other line  of  work." 

He  glared  at  Mamie  Blanchard,  who  was  standing 
close  to  the  table  and  glaring  back  at  him. 

"Sit  down,  Miss  Blanchard!"  Verbeck  said.  "We 
are  going  to  have  a  short  conversation.  And  kindly 
do  not  attempt  any  foolish  move.  I  dislike  to  fight  a 
woman,  but  at  times  it  seems  to  be  necessary." 

Mamie  Blanchard  sat  down.  Verbeck  could  tell, 
by  glancing  at  her  face,  that  she  had  regained  her 


A  TENSE  MOMENT  175 

composure — that  she  was  clever,  dangerous,  a  woman 
to  be  watched  closely. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  she  demanded. 

"I  don't  suppose  you'll  do  as  I  ask,  but  I  am  going 
to  give  you  a  chance,"  Verbeck  said.  "I  want  some 
information  about  the  Black  Star." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  him.  I  was  in  his 
old  gang,  as  you  are  aware.  I  supposed  you  had 
come  to  arrest  me  for  that.  He  didn't  see  fit  to  in- 
clude me  in  his  new  organization,  because  you  knew 
me,  I  suppose." 

"That  statement  is  not  at  all  clever  of  you,"  said 
Verbeck.  "You  are  talking  to  men  who  know  better. 
You  helped  engineer  his  escape,  didn't  you?" 

"Since  you  know,  I  did.  That  is,  I  got  the  sheriff 
to  raid  the  gambling  house,  and  decoyed  him  to  the 
little  cottage.  The  Black  Star  gave  me  that  much  to 
do  because  I  needed  money.  But  that  is  all." 

"You  mean  your  work  for  him  is  done?"  Verbeck 
asked. 

"Yes." 

"You're  not  in  touch  with  him  any  more?" 

"No." 

"Um!  And  yet  Landers,  his  trusted  lieutenant,  is 
a  frequent  visitor  here." 

"Perhaps  that  is  for  personal  reasons,"  said  Mamie 
Blanchard.  "We  saw  each  other  a  great  deal  when 
we  were  in  the  old  gang,  and  we  are — well,  interested 
in  each  other  to  a  certain  extent." 

"I  wish  that  I  could  believe  your  story  of  a  fond 
romance,  but  I  am  afraid  that  I  cannot,"  Verbeck 
said.  "Let  us  put  the  cards  on  the  table.  You  know, 
Miss  Blanchard,  that  it  is  only  a  question  of  time 
when  the  Black  Star  will  be  recaptured  and  his  band 


i;6  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN! 

scattered  or  sent  to  jail.  It  will  go  easier  with  you 
personally  if  you  give  me  the  information  I  desire; 
and  please  do  not  waste  time  and  breath  by  saying 
that  you  do  not  know.  Where  is  the  Black  Star's 
headquarters  ?" 

"I  don't  know — and  that  is  the  truth." 

"Possibly  it  is  the  truth,  but  you  report  to  him 
through  somebody.  I  suppose  it  is  Landers,  since  he 
calls  here  so  much.  When  will  Landers  be.  here 
again?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"What  do  you  know  about  the  Black  Star's  plans 
for  the  future?" 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  them,"  said  Mamie 
Blanchard. 

"She  knows,  all  right,  but  she'll  not  talk,"  the 
sheriff  declared.  "Might  as  well  haul  them  both  to 
jail,  I  guess.  There's  an  old  charge  against  this 
Blanchard  woman,  and  we  can  hold  the  other  on  sus- 
picion while  we  make  an  investigation." 

"You  dare  take  me  to  jail!"  shouted  the  fat-and- 
forty  lady. 

"Tut,  tut!"  said  Sheriff  Kowen. 

The  sheriff  did  not  take  his  eyes  off  Mamie 
Blanchard.  He  was  aware  that  she  was  clever,  and 
he  was  watching  for  her  to  make  some  move.  He 
watched  her  hands  particularly. 

Verbeck  bent  forward  in  his  chair  again.  "It  will 
be  a  great  deal  better  for  you  to  talk,"  he  cautioned. 

"I've  said  all  that  I  am  going  to  say!"  Mamie 
Blanchard  declared.  "If  you  want  to  take  me  to 
jail,  take  me!  The  Black  Star  will  get  me  out,  and 
he'll  take  pay  from  the  city  because  I  was  arrested!" 

"You  think  you  can  bluff  me  with  a  speech  like 


A  TENSE  MOMENT  177 

that?"  Kowen  demanded.  "Not  in  the  least,  young 
woman!  You  do  not  seem  to  appreciate  what  you 
are  facing." 

"And  you,"  she  said,  "do  not  seem  to  appreciate 
what  is  behind  you  at  this  moment!" 

"Trying  to  get  me  to  turn  around,  so  you  can 
make  some  sort  of  a  move,  are  you?"  the  sheriff 
asked.  "That's  old  stuff — telling  a  man  to  look  be- 
hind him." 

"There  is  something  behind  you,  all  right,"  she 
said. 

A  man's  voice  greeted  them  from  the  rear. 

"I've  got  both  of  you  covered!  Drop  that  gun, 
sheriff!" 

Both  the  sheriff  and  Verbeck  suddenly  felt  some- 
thing pressing  against  the  backs  of  their  necks.  Each 
knew  what  it  was — the  muzzle  of  a  weapon. 

"Drop  it!"  said  the  voice  again. 

The  sheriff  dropped  his  gun.  He  knew  it  was  the 
only  thing  to  do  when  another  man  had  the  drop  on 
him. 

"Sit  still!  Don't  turn  around!"  said  the  voice 
again. 

Suddenly  the  air  about  the  two  men  was  filled  with 
pungent  fumes.  Their  heads  dropped  forward.  Once 
more  a  vapor  gun  had  done  its  work,  and  done  it 
instantly  and  well. 

Roger  Verbeck  and  Sheriff  Kowen  returned  to 
consciousness  to  find  that  they  were  bound  and 
gagged  and  lashed  to  chairs  placed  against  the  wall. 
The  two  women  were  still  in  the  room.  Landers  was 
there,  too. 

"You  fail  again,  Verbeck,"  he  said.     "You  must 


178  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

be  losing  your  cleverness,  as  the  Black  Star  says. 
You  enter  a  room  as  you  entered  this,  and  sit  down 
and  turn  your  back  upon  a  closet  without  examining 
it  first.  It  was  very  easy  to  overcome  you  after  that. 
I  didn't  look  for  any  brains  in  the  sheriff,  of  course, 
but  I  did  in  you. 

"The  question  now  is  what  to  do  with  you.  We 
have  been  discussing  it  while  you  were  unconscious. 
Had  I  my  way,  you'd  be  put  where  you'd  bother  us 
no  longer,  but  the  Black  Star  will  not  countenance 
that  sort  of  violence.  He  is  tender-hearted  in  some 
things,  as  you  know. 

"It  appears  that  you  have  discovered  our  little  re- 
treat here,  and  so  we  cannot  remain.  These  ladies 
will  have  to  go  out  with  me,  without  even  taking 
their  clothes  and  toilet  articles,  and  not  return.  It  is 
a  nuisance  to  find  another  hiding  place,  but  there  are 
plenty  of  them  in  the  city.  We  shall  have  to  leave 
you  here,  of  course.  I  promise  to  telephone  the 
hotel  later,  and  have  you  released. 

"Thought  you'd  get  some  information,  did  you? 
Let  me  tell  you,  Roger  Verbeck,  that  you'll  never 
catch  the  Black  Star  this  time.  And  he'll  strip  the 
city  before  he  is  through.  He  has  planned  something 
for  to-morrow  night  that  will  not  only  startle  the 
city,  but  the  entire  country  as  well.  There  is  not  a 
chance  in  the  world  of  you  or  the  police  or  the 
sheriff's  force  preventing  it — or  doing  anything  after 
it  has  been  accomplished." 

Landers  motioned  to  the  women,  and  they  went  to 
the  closet  for  hats  and  cloaks. 

"I  don't  see  the  sense  of  leaving  everything," 
Mamie  Blanchard  said.  "We  can  say  at  the  office 
that  I  am  going  away  for  a  few  days,  but  that  my 


A  TENSE  MOMENT  ^79 

sister  will  remain.  They'll  think  that  you  are 
merely  taking  me  to  the  train.  At  least,  I  can  take 
a  bag.  I  can  put  a  lot  of  things  in  that." 

"Very  well;  perhaps  that  would  be  best,"  Landers 
agreed.  "Take  your  time,  my  dear.  There  is  no 
need  to  rush  things.  We  are  not  likely  to  be  dis- 
turbed here.  You'd  better  put  on  a  heavy  veil,  too. 
There  may  be  a  deputy  or  two  around  the  hotel,  and 
some  of  them  might  recognize  you.  I'll  telephone  for 
a  taxi  just  before  we  go  down." 

The  two  women  began  packing  the  bag,  while 
Landers  turned  his  back  on  his  prisoners,  went  to 
the  window  and  looked  down  at  the  street. 

Verbeck  and  the  sheriff  glanced  at  each  other  help- 
lessly. There  was  small  chance  that  they  would  be 
able  to  trail  Landers  and  the  women  if  they  got 
away  now;  and  after  this  they  -would  keep  in  hiding 
better.  It  appeared  that  the  Black  Star's  good  luck 
was  with  him  yet. 

Verbeck  tugged  at  his  bonds,  but  knew  instantly 
that  there  was  small  hope  of  freeing  himself.  If  he 
did,  Landers  held  the  advantage.  But  it  was  Ver- 
beck's  idea  that  he  could  get  free  at  least  soon  after 
the  others  left  the  room,  and  make  an  effort  to  trace 
them. 

Landers  turned  away  from  the  window. 

"Verbeck,  your  man  trailed  me  this  afternoon," 
he  said.  "He  saw  me  come  into  this  hotel,  I  sup- 
pose, and  found  out  what  room  I  visited.  He's  out 
at  the  Black  Star's  headquarters  now,  a  pampered 
guest;  but  when  I  get  a  chance,  I'm  going  to  give 
him  what's  coming  to  him.  He  was  the  cause  of 
my  getting  a  rebuke  from  the  Black  Star." 


i8o  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I  wish  you'd  rap  that  sheriff  on  the  head,"  Mamie 
Blanchard  remarked.  "He's  a  nuisance!" 

"The  Black  Star  will  not  stand  for  work  like  that, 
and  you  know  it,"  Landers  replied.  "Besides,  the 
sheriff  is  harmless;  we  have  little  to  fear  from  him." 

Sheriff  Kowen's  face  grew  purple  with  wrath,  and 
he  gurgled  behind  his  gag. 

Mamie  Blanchard  was  packing  the  bag,  and  her 
stout  companion  was  gathering  the  things  to  put  into 
it.  Verbeck  continued  working  at  the  bonds  about 
his  wrists.  The  cords  were  cutting  through  the 
flesh,  but  he  did  not  desist.  He  knew  that  every 
second  would  be  precious  as  soon  as  Landers  and 
the  two  women  left  the  room. 

He  stopped  for  an  instant,  because  the  exertion 
was  tiring  him,  and  his  wrists  pained  so  much.  He 
saw  that  Kowen  was  trying  to  get  free,  too,  and  knew 
that  he  was  making  a  failure  of  it.  Landers  had 
done  his  work  well;  it  was  evident  that  the  man  was 
an  expert  at  binding  and  gagging. 

Presently  Landers  came  over,  inspected  their 
bonds,  and  laughed. 

"You  are  only  mutilating  your  wrists,  Mr.  Ver- 
beck," he  said.  "I  assure  you  that  you  will  be  un- 
able to  get  free.  I  promise  to  call  up  the  hotel  with- 
in an  hour  or  so,  and  tell  them  to  come  up  and  re- 
lease you.  It  will  get  into  the  newspapers,  of  course 
— and  the  public  will  have  another  laugh  at  your  ex- 
pense— but  you  should  be  used  to  that  by  this  time, 
you  and  the  s'heriff  both.  The  town  should  give  us 
credit  for  handing  them  a  laugh  now  and  then,  as 
well  as  thrills." 

The  sheriff  gurgled  behind  his  gag  again. 
Verbeck  looked  past  him  to  the  window  at  whicH 


A  TENSE  MOMENT  181 

was  the  landing  of  the  fire  escape.  He  saw  a  shadow 
there,  and  looked  away.  Then  he  glanced  back  again, 
a  new  hope  born  in  his  breast.  Once  more  he  ob- 
served a  shadow,  and  then  a  man's  face  showed  for 
an  instant  as  he  peered  inside.  The  man  was  his 
friend,  Lawrence. 

Lawrence  had  fussed  and  fumed  for  ten  minutes 
after  Verbeck  and  the  sheriff  had  left.  He  had 
opened  the  window  by  the  fire  escape,  and  had  looked 
down.  The  shade  at  the  window  in  the  room  on  the 
second  floor  was  only  partially  drawn,  and  Lawrence 
could  see  the  light  streaming  out. 

"Wonder  what  those  chaps  are  up  to?"  he  asked 
himself.  "Mean  of  Verbeck  not  to  let  me  in  on  it. 
Ought  to  hear  some  sort  of  an  explosion  soon,  I 
fancy.  Maybe  there'll  be  a  row — give  the  hotel  a  bad 
name — beastly  mess !" 

He  waited  for  half  an  hour  longer,  hanging  out 
of  the  window  and  watching  below.  He  saw  noth- 
ing, heard  nothing.  At  the  foot  of  the  fire  escape  a 
man  was  standing — the  sheriff's  deputy. 

Then  the  lust  for  adventure  was  born  in  Lawrence's 
bosom.  He  chuckled  at  the  very  idea.  He  opened 
the  window  wider,  and  got  out  on  the  landing  of  the 
fire  escape. 

He  began  slowly  descending  the  ladder,  round  by 
round,  passed  the  landing  on  the  third  floor,  and  con- 
tinued to  the  second.  He  went  close  to  the  window, 
and  looked  in. 

He  saw  the  sheriff  and  Roger  Verbeck  bound  and 
gagged  and  lashed  in  their  chairs.  He  saw  Landers 
walking  around  the  room,  a  revolver  in  his  hand, 
and  the  two  women  packing  the  bag. 

"Great  Scott !"  he  breathed.     "Verbeck  and  Kowen 


182  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN1 

seem  to  have  come  a  cropper !  Prisoners,  eh  ?  Ought 
to  give  them  a  bit  of  help,  I  suppose.  Can't  let  that 
other  chap  get  away  with  this,  of  course." 

Landers  walked  toward  the  window,  and  Lawrence 
drew  back  from  it.  He  waited  a  moment,  then 
glanced  in  again — and  met  Verbeck's  eyes.  Law- 
rence nodded  his  head.  He  went  to  the  end  of  the 
fire-escape  landing  and  looked  down  at  the  deputy, 
who  had  been  watching  him  carefully,  remembering 
his  orders.  He  took  a  notebook  from  his  pocket,  and 
a  pencil  from  another,  and  scribbled  a  message: 

Come  up  quick!  Man  and  two  women  in 
room  have  Verbeck  and  sheriff  bound  and 
gagged.  They  are  packing  bag  and  preparing 
to  leave.  I  can't  tackle  this  alone.  I'm  Ver- 
beck's friend,  Lawrence.  Either  come  up  the 
fire  escape  or  go  inside  and  to  room  256  and 
nab  them  at  the  door,  and  I'll  watch  here. 

He  tossed  the  note  down,  and  the  deputy  picked  it 
up  and  read  it.  The  deputy  was  not  certain  just  what 
to  do.  If  he  went  inside  the  hotel  he  would  disre- 
gard the  sheriff's  orders,  which  had  been  to  watch 
the  fire  escape.  So  the  deputy  decided  to  climb. 

He  sprang  up  and  caught  the  bottom  of  the  iron 
ladder,  reached  the  first  landing,  and  worked  his  way 
up,  watching  Lawrence  closely,  a  weapon  held  ready 
if  Lawrence  proved  to  be  foe  instead  of  friend. 
Lawrence  glanced  inside  the  room  again,  and  ges- 
tured to  Verbeck  that  he  had  reason  to  hope. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ON   THE  ROOF 

LAWRENCE  peered  through  the  window  again,  as 
the  deputy  made  his  way  up  the  fire  escape.  The 
two  women  were  putting  on  their  hats  and  veils. 
Landers  had  stepped  before  Verbeck  and  Sheriff 
Kowen  again,  and  was  speaking  to  them. 

"I  shall  report  all  this  to  the  Black  Star/'  he  was 
saying,  "and  he  will  take  great  pleasure  in  relating  it 
to  the  newspapers.  We  must  give  the  dear  public  an- 
other chance  to  laugh,  as  I  said  before.  I  regret  that 
the  chief  of  police  is  not  with  you." 

Just  then  the  deputy  reached  the  landing  of  the 
fire  escape,  and  looked  at  Lawrence  closely. 

"We  haven't  any  time  to  lose,"  Lawrence  whis- 
pered. "Look  inside  the  room." 

Lawrence,  realizing  that  the  deputy  was  suspicious 
of  him,  stepped  back,  and  the  other  man  took  a  step 
forward  and  glanced  through  the  window. 

"I  want  to  get  in  on  this;  Roger  Verbeck  is  a 
friend  of  mine!"  Lawrence  declared.  "What  are  we 
going  to  do?" 

He  looked  through  the  window  again  as  he  spoke. 
Mamie  Blanchard  had  picked  up  the  bag  and  stepped 
to  the  door.  The  older  woman  was  following  her. 
Landers  was  preparing  to  leave. 

"Don't  worry,  gentlemen,"  he  was  saying.  "I'll 
notify  the  hotel  to  release  you  within  an  hour  or  so, 
I'll  turn  out  the  lights,  of  course." 


184  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

The  deputy  waited  no  longer.  He  appeared  to  be 
convinced  now  that  Lawrence  was  acting  in  good 
faith.  He  sprang  forward,  thrust  his  foot  through 
the  window,  kicked  at  the  glass  repeatedly,  rolled  up 
the  shade  and  sprang  into  -the  room.  Lawrence  was 
only  a  pace  behind  him,  and  eager  for  the  fray. 

Landers  and  his  companions  had  whirled  around 
at  the  first  crash  of  the  glass.  One  of  the  women 
screamed.  Landers  cursed,  sprang  to  the  light 
switch,  and  snapped  off  the  lights.  The  door  was 
hurled  open,  and  the  two  women  fled  into  the  hall. 
Landers  fired  one  shot  from  the  vapor  gun,  sprang 
after  them,  stopped  long  enough  to  turn  the  key  in 
the  lock  on  the  outside,  and  hurried  after  his  female 
confederates  to  the  elevator. 

Lawrence  and  the  deputy  charged  across  the  room, 
trying  to  keep  from  breathing,  from  inhaling  those 
poisonous  fumes.  The  deputy  hurled  himself  at  the 
door  in  an  effort  to  break  it  down.  But  it  was  well 
braced  against  the  woodwork  outside,  and  resisted 
his  efforts. 

Lawrence  staggered  back  to  the  window  and  took 
great  gulps  of  the  fresh  air.  Then  he  whirled  around 
again,  turned  on  the  lights  and  began  fumbling  at 
Verbeck's  bonds.  Verbeck  and  the  sheriff  were  weak, 
but  the  fumes  of  the  vapor  gun  had  not  rendered 
them  unconscious.  The  draft  from  the  broken  win- 
dow had  prevented  that. 

Lawrence  tore  the  gags  from  the  mouths  of  the 
bound  men,  and  worked  at  the  fastenings  again. 

"Down  the  fire  escape!"  Kowen  shrieked  to  his 
deputy.  "They  called  for  a  taxi.  If  you  see  a  cop, 
get  him  to  help.  We'll  be  after  you  in  a  minute!" 

The  deputy  darted  to  the  window,  and  went  down 


ON  THE  ROOF  185 

the  fire  escape  with  the  agility  of  a  monkey.  Ver- 
beck  and  Kowen,  freed  of  their  bonds  at  last,  got 
upon  their  feet.  Since  it  seemed  impossible  to  break 
down  the  door  leading  to  the  corridor,  Verbeck 
hurled  himself  against  the  one  opening  into  an  ad- 
joining room.  It  crashed  in,  and  they  staggered  into 
the  apartment,  startling  a  man  who  was  dressing 
there. 

"Officers — after  crooks !"  Kowen  gasped. 

They  flung  the  hall  door  open,  and  rushed  out. 
Lawrence  was  not  far  behind  them.  Verbeck  ran  at 
once  to  the  elevators  and  glanced  at  the  indicators 
above  the  doors. 

"All  at  the  bottom  except  one — and  that  is 
almost  at  the  top,"  he  gasped.  "They  surely  haven't 
had  time  to  get  to  the  ground  floor,  unless  they 
just  happened  to  catch  an  elevator  on  the  fly,  or  else 
went  down  the  stairs." 

The  sheriff  made  no  reply;  already  he  was  dash- 
ing down  the  wide,  marble  stairs.  He  reached  the 
floor  below,  gave  the  lobby  a  single  glance,  and 
then  hurried  to  the  elevators. 

"Two  women  and  a  man  just  come  down?"  he 
asked. 

"Nobody's  come  down  for  the  last  ten  minutes 
or  so,"  the  starter  replied.  "What's  the  row?" 

The  deputy  had  charged  in  from  the  street. 

"They  haven't  come  this  way!"  he  said.  "The 
iaxicab  is  still  waiting  for  them  in  front." 

"Around  to  the  alley!"  the  sheriff  commanded. 
"Watch  every  exit  there!" 

The  hotel  manager  was  on  the  scene  by  this  time. 

"What  is   the   disturbance  about?"   he   demanded. 


186  BIACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"We're  after  some  of  the  Black  Star's  gang,"  the 
sheriff  replied. 

"In  my  house?" 

"Yes;  and  they've  been  living  here  for  some  time, 
if  you  want  to  know.  I  thought  this  was  an  exclusive 
place,  where  a  tenant  had  to  have  all  sorts  of  refer- 
ences. Those  two  women  who  call  themselves 
Whaley " 

"Why,  they  are  all  right!" 

"Are  they?"  asked  the  sheriff.     "One  side!" 

He  took  up  a  position  whence  he  could  watch 
both  the  stairs  and  the  elevators.  The  deputy  had 
hurried  to  the  alley.  Two  policemen  came  in  from 
the  street,  and  the  hotel  detective  put  in  an  appear- 
ance. Kowen  took  instant  command  of  the  situation. 

"Let  nobody  leave  the  building  for  the  present — 
nobody!"  he  commanded.  "Let  nobody  pass  out 
unless  either  Verbeck  or  I  give  them  permission!" 

Kowen  sprang  up  the  wide  stairs  again.  He 
reached  the  second  floor,  and  stopped  to  listen. 
He  heard  no  sound  of  pursuit  or  combat.  The 
elevator  came  down  from  above,  and  the  sheriff 
stopped  it. 

"Take  two  women  and  a  man  up?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,   sir."   said  the  operator. 

"Know  them?" 

"Miss  Whaley  and " 

"That's  enough!    Where  did  they  go?" 

"To  the  roof.  They  said  they  wanted  to  take  a 
look  at  the  city,  as  one  of  the  ladies  was  going 
away." 

"I'll  go  up  and  take  a  look  myself!"  the  sheriff 
said.  "And  give  us  a  little  speed!" 

The  boy  whizzed  the  elevator  to  the  top  floor; 


ON  THE  ROOF  187 

he  didn't  know  what  it  was  all  about,  but  he  sensed 
excitement. 

"You  take  that  flight  of  stairs  to  the  roof,"  he 
explained.  "There  is  a  door  at  the  top." 

Kowen  did  not  wait  to  thank  him.  He  rushed 
for  the  stairs — and  ran  into  Verbeck  and  Lawrence. 

"They're  on  the  roof!"  Verbeck  said.  "And  the 
door  is  locked,  of  course!" 

"Then  we've  got  them!"  Kowen  declared.  "It's 
a  cinch  they  can't  get  down !" 

"Don't  forget  that  we  had  the  Black  Star  on  a 
roof  once,  and  he  got  down,"  Verbeck  reminded 
him.  "I  just  examined  that  door;  it's  a  strong  one." 

"Why  use  the  door?"  Lawrence  asked  quietly.  "I 
know  this  building  pretty  well,  and  I  can  get  to  the 
roof  without  going  through  the  door  at  all." 

"How?"  Verbeck  asked. 

"I  can  get  through  that  window,  hang  to  the 
cornice,  and  draw  myself  up." 

"You'd  fall,  man!"  Kowen  declared.  "You'd  kill 
yourself  1" 

"I  can  do  it!"  Verbeck  exclaimed.  "It  isn't  a 
bit  harder  than  things  I'm  doing  in  the  gymnasium 
all  the  time." 

He  hurried  to  the  window,  opened  it,  and  looked 
at  the  cornice  above. 

"Don't  try  it!"  Kowen  said.  "It's  twelve  stories 
to  the  pavement  below,  Mr.  Verbeck." 

"But  I'm  not  going  to  fall!" 

"They're  not  worth  it " 

"What?  The  Black  Star's  first  lieutenant,  and 
the  cleverest  woman  in  his  band?  I'm  going  up! 
You  go  to  the  door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  and 
pound  against  it — make  them  think  you  are  trying 


i88  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

to  break  through — attract  their  attention!  Do  it 
now !" 

He  removed  his  shoes  as  he  spoke.  Kovven  made 
a  last  protest,  which  drew  no  reply  from  Verbeck 
except  a  grin.  Then  the  sheriff  and  Lawrence  went 
back  up  the  steps,  and  began  pounding  against  the 
door. 

Verbeck  was  cool  and  collected  now.  He  realized 
the  task  that  was  before  him,  and  he  knew  the 
danger  he  would  be  running.  A  fall  would  mean 
death  on  the  pavement  twelve  floors  below.  Ver- 
beck was  thankful  that  it  was  dark. 

Once  more  he  looked  up  at  the  cornice.  Then 
he  got  through  the  window,  balanced  himself  on  the 
sill,  and  reached  up  and  grasped  the  edge  of  the 
cornice  with  his  hands. 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  took  a  deep  breath,  and 
started  to  draw  himself  up.  It  was  a  difficult  task, 
even  for  a  man  who  always  had  been  known  as  an 
athlete.  He  managed  to  get  one  elbow  over  the 
edge  of  the  cornice,  and  thus  he  held  himself, 
and  rested,  and  tried  to  reduce  his  breathing  to 
normal. 

The  hardest  part  of  the  task  was  before  him, 
he  knew.  He  had  swung  away  from  the  window 
below.  If  he  was  forced  to  lower  himself,  he 
doubted  whether  he  could  swing  his  legs  in  enough 
to  brace  himself  on  the  sill. 

"Have  to  do  it,  now!"  Roger  Verbeck  told 
himself. 

Again  he  started  drawing  himself  up.  He  got 
his  other  elbow  over  the  edge  of  the  cornice,  rested 
again  for  an  instant,  and  then  started  to  turn.  Now 
his  chest  rested  against  the  cornice.  He  exerted 


ON  THE  ROOF  189 

all  his  strength  and  managed  to  get  one  leg  up. 
It  was  not  difficult,  after  that,  to  draw  up  the 
other.  So  he  remained  stretched  on  a  narrow  ledge 
twelve  stories  above  a  busy  street,  panting,  almost 
exhausted,  dizzy. 

Verbeck  closed  his  eyes  and  stretched  himself  out 
to  his  full  length.  He  realized  that  he  could  not 
hope  to  go  the  remainder  of  the  way  until  he  had 
recovered  his  strength.  However,  it  did  not  take 
him  long  to  recuperate. 

He  raised  himself  on  his  elbows  and  glanced 
upward.  The  parapet  was  above  him,  and  not 
difficult  to  scale,  but  to  reach  the  edge  of  it  he  would 
have  to  stand  up  straight  on  the  narrow  ledge  upon 
which  he  now  was  stretched. 

Verbeck  took  a  deep  breath  and  started  drawing 
up  his  knees.  Presently  he  was  in  a  kneeling  posi- 
tion. Then,  inch  by  inch,  he  raised  his  body.  His 
hands  crept  up  the  face  of  the  wall  before  him, 
stretched  out  and  grasped  the  edge  of  the  parapet. 

Once  more  he  was  forced  to  draw  himself  up. 
He  was  very  quiet  about  it,  too.  He  did  not  know 
but  that  Landers  might  he  directly  above  him,  ready 
to  receive  him,  or  to  thrust  him  over. 

He  got  his  elbows  over  the  edge,  and  stopped  to 
breathe  and  to  listen.  He  could  hear  Kowen  and 
Lawrence  pounding  on  the  door,  and  he  found  that 
Landers  and  the  women  were  not  near. 

Verbeck  began  to  think  that  good  fortune  was 
with  him.  He  continued  to  draw  himself  up,  and 
finally  was  stretched,  panting,  on  the  top  of  the 
parapet. 

He  was  in  no  hurry,  now.  He  had  no  intention 
of  clashing  physically  with  Landers  while  in  an 


190  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

exhausted  condition.  There  was  no  way,  he  thought, 
in  which  Landers  and  the  women  could  escape  from 
the  roof  except  through  the  door  at  which  the  sheriff 
and  Lawrence  were  pounding. 

Verbeck  waited  until  he  felt  refreshed,  and  then 
slipped  down  to  the  roof.  Noiselessly  he  made  his 
way  across  it  toward  the  door.  He  came  to  a 
chimney,  and  stopped  beside  it,  to  watch  and  listen. 

He  had  no  weapon  on  him,  and  he  knew  that 
Landers  had  a  vapor  gun.  One  shot  from  that 
might  render  him  unconscious,  put  him  out  of  the 
fight.  He  could  hear  Landers  and  the  women  talk- 
ing not  very  far  from  where  he  stood. 

"They  can't  get  through  that  door  for  some 
time,"  Landers  was  saying.  "I'm  going  to  telephone." 

"He'll  not  come !"  Mamie  Blanchard  wailed.  "Why 
didn't  we  go  down  the  stairs  instead  of  up?  We 
might  have  known  we  would  have  been  caught  in 
a  trap." 

"We'll  see  whether  he'll  come  or  not!"  Landers 
said.  "If  the  telephone  is  not  out  of  commis- 
sion  " 

During  the  hot  summer  months,  the  roof  was 
used  as  a  garden.  There  was  a  little  building  in 
one  corner  of  it  that  was  used  as  a  refreshment 
stand,  and  there  always  was  a  telephone  there. 

Verbeck  knew  that  Landers  was  rushing  across 
the  roof  to  the  building.  He  heard  him  smash 
against  the  frail  door,  heard  it  crash  in.  The 
women,  it  was  evident,  remained  near  the  door 
leading  to  the  stairs  that  went  below. 

Leaving  the  shadow  of  the  chimney,  Verbeck 
crept  forward  toward  the  little  structure  where 
Landers  had  gone  to  telephone.  He  hoped  to  catch 


ON  THE  ROOF  191 

the  Black  Star's  lieutenant  at  a  disadvantage  and 
subdue  him.  He  was  much  interested,  too,  in 
what  Landers'  telephone  message  might  be,  and  to 
whom  it  would  be  sent. 

Without  a  sound,  Verbeck  crossed  the  roof  and 
came  to  the  side  of  the  little  building.  Landers 
had  flashed  an  electric  torch,  and  was  taking  the 
telephone  from  beneath  the  counter.  Verbeck  saw 
him  take  down  the  receiver. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MUGGS     GIVES     A     TIP 

IT  was  evident  that  the  hotel  switchboard  operator 
was  surprised  to  get  a  call  from  the  roof. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right  1"  Verbeck  heard  Landers  say. 
"I'm  up  on  the  roof  with  the  Misses  Whaley.  One 
of  the  ladies  is  going  to  leave  the  city,  and  she 
wanted  to  call  a  friend  from  here — just  a  whim. 
I  found  the  door  unlocked." 

Then  he  gave  a  number.  Roger  Verbeck  made 
a  mental  note  of  it.  Here  might  be  a  clew  that 
would  lead  to  something  important. 

Verbeck  crept  close  to  the  door,  and  listened. 
Presently  Landers  spoke  again. 

"Hello!  This  is  Landers!  I'm  trapped  on  the 
roof  of  the  New  Nortonia  Hotel  with  Mamie  and 
her  sister.  Kowen  and  his  crowd  are  trying  to 
break  the  door  in  now,  but  I  think  it'll  take  them 
some  time,  and  then  I  can  stand  them  off  for  a 
while.  If  you  don't  come  for  us,  we're  caught.  .  .  . 
Yes,  Verbeck  and  the  sheriff.  They  walked  in  on 
us.  I  got  them  under  control,  but  some  others 
came.  The  place  is  a  regular  trap.  .  .  .  Thanks! 
But  hurry!" 

Verbeck  slipped  to  one  side  as  Landers  put  the 
receiver  on  the  hook  and  hurried  out.  He  fol- 
lowed the  Black  Star's  lieutenant  back  across  the 
roof,  and  watched  as  he  met  the  women. 

"He'll    come    for    us!"    Verbeck    heard    Landers 


MUGGS  GIVES  A  TIP  193 

say.  "It'll  take  him  some  time,  of  course — fifteen 
minutes  at  least.  We'll  have  to  hold  off  those  men 
on  the  other  side  of  the  door.  If  it  comes  to  the 
worst,  some  of  them  will  get  something  more  than 
a  dose  out  of  a  vapor  gun.  I  don't  intend  to  spend 
fifteen  or  twenty  years  in  prison!" 

"If  we  had  only  gone  downstairs — • — "  Mamie 
Blanchard  began. 

"If  we  had,  we'd  have  run  into  a  few  deputies. 
I  tell  you  they  planned  to  trap  us!  They've  shad- 
owed some  of  us " 

"Then  it  must  have  been  you!"  Mamie  Blanchard 
told  him.  "I  have  not  been  out  of  the  hotel,  re- 
member. It's  your  carelessness  that  got  us  into 
this  mess!" 

"Well,  we  won't  quarrel  about  it,"  Landers  said. 
"You  women  g;o  to  the  other  side  of  the  roof 
and  wait.  I'll  stay  near  the  door  and  handle  those 
men  if  they  manage  to  break  it  open." 

Landers  approached  the  door,  and  Verbeck  crept 
after  him.  The  light  was  so  faint  that  he  could 
see  little — just  a  shadow  where  the  master  crook's 
lieutenant  was  walking.  Verbeck  crouched  as  he 
advanced,  made  no  noise,  and  was  ready  to  stop  if 
Landers  betrayed  any  suspicion.  But  Landers,  it 
appeared,  did  not  expect  a  foe  on  the  roof,  and 
was  intent  only  upon  the  door  at  which  the  sheriff 
and  Lawrence  were  pounding. 

Verbeck  had  picked  up  a  piece  of  timber  beside 
the  little  refreshment  stand.  It  was  the  only  weapon 
he  had.  He  hated  to  use  it,  but  he  felt  that  the 
situation  justified  its  use.  Landers  was  about  a  match 
for  him  physically,  and  it  was  Verbeck's  duty  to 


194  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

make  a  prisoner  of  him,  open  the  door,  and  let  the 
others  take  the  women  into  custody. 

Landers   was   stamping  upon   the   door. 

"Get  away,  or  I'll  fire  through  it!"  he  called, 
as  the  pounding  ceased  for  a  moment. 

He  sent  one  shot  crashing  through  the  wood  and 
Verbeck  could  hear  a  chorus  of  shrieks  below.  He 
knew  Landers'  plan — to  delay  them  as  much  as  he 
could.  And  for  what?  That  was  what  Verbeck 
could  not  fathom. 

To  whom  had  Landers  telephoned?  How  could 
he  be  rescued  from  the  roof?  Would  the  Black 
Star  and  his  band  face  a  battle  with  police  and 
deputies,  attempt  to  raid  the  hotel  and  save  Landers 
and  the  two  women? 

Landers  had  stepped  back,  and  was  listening  to 
what  was  being  said  below.  Verbeck  crept  forward 
until  he  was  within  six  feet  of  the  other  man.  He 
raised  the  piece  of  timber. 

He  sent  but  one  blow  home,  but  he  knew  as  it 
struck  that  it  would  send  Landers  crashing  to  the 
roof,  even  though  it  did  not  render  him  uncon- 
scious. He  sprang  past  him,  and  fumbled  at  the 
heavy  bolts  on  the  door,  drew  them,  and  threw 
the  door  open. 

"Up — quick!"  he  cried. 

Glad  cries  from  the  sheriff  and  Lawrence  greeted 
him.  They  sprang  to  the  roof,  two  deputies  at  their 
heels.  They  seized  the  groaning  Landers,  and  rushed 
across  the  roof  toward  the  women. 

"Torches !"  Kowen  cried. 

The  torches  flashed.  The  women  were  standing 
near  one  of  the  big  chimneys.  Kowen  led  his  deputies 
toward  them. 


MUGGS  GIVES  A  TIP  195 

"You  don't  get  away  this  time!"  he  said.  "It's 
handcuffs  and  a  cell  for  you!  You've  played  your 
last  game  with  the  Black  Star,  you  two  beauties!" 

The  fair  prisoners  were  led  toward  the  stairs. 
Landers  had  been  handcuffed,  and  was  being  carried 
to  the  floor  below.  Verbeck  and  Lawrence  followed 
them,  but  when  they  reached  the  floor  below,  Ver- 
beck called  the  sheriff  aside. 

"Landers  telephoned  from  the  refreshment  stand 
on  the  roof,"  he  said.  "I  have  made  a  note  of  the 
number;  it  might  lead  us  to  something.  But  here 
is  the  funny  part — he  asked  somebody  to  come  and 
rescue  him.  How  they  are  going  to  try  it,  I  do 
not  know;  but  I  think  that  message  went  to  the 
Black  Star." 

"Maybe  he'll  try  a  raid  here,"  Kowen  suggested. 

"Landers  estimated,  so  he  told  the  women,  that 
he  would  be  here  in  fifteen  minutes,  at  least.  But 
how  could  even  the  Black  Star  get  enough  of  his 
men  together  to  raid  a  place  like  this  in  that  length 
of  time?  It's  the  roof  we  have  to  watch.  You 
remember  how  the  Black  Star  escaped  from  the 
roof  of  the  National  Trust  Building,  don't  you?  He 
seems  to  have  methods  of  which  we  know  nothing." 

"Some  more  of  that  light  stuff,  and  talking  to 
us  out  of  the  air,  probably,"  the  sheriff  said.  "Well, 
what  shall  we  do?" 

"Have  your  deputies  put  the  prisoners  in  a  room 
and  guard  them.  We'll  stay  here  by  the  door  and 
watch  the  roof!" 

Sheriff  Kowen  gave  the  orders.  He  and  Ver- 
beck remained  by  the  door,  Lawrence  with  them. 

"What's  the  big  idea?"  Lawrence  inquired. 


196  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Perhaps  nothing;  we  are  waiting  to  see,"  Ver- 
beck  replied. 

"Well,  can't  you  let  a  fellow  in  on  it?  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  me,  those  people  would  be  far 
away  by  this  time;  and  you'd  be  bound  and  gagged 
in  that  room,  waiting  for  the  public  to  laugh  at 
you !" 

"Simply  this,"  Verbeck  said;  "Landers  telephoned 
to  somebody  to  rescue  him  from  the  roof,  and  we 
are  waiting  to  see  who  comes  to  do  it,  and  how 
he  comes." 

They  waited  for  ten  minutes  without  hearing  or 
seeing  anything.  They  left  the  door  and  walked  to 
the  nearest  chimney,  and  stood  there,  watching,  lis- 
tening, like  men  who  expected  something  to  drop 
from  the  sky. 

And  something  did  come  from  the  sky — that  puz- 
zling, brilliant  light  they  were  learning  to  know 
so  well.  It  flooded  the  roof,  swept  across  it,  almost 
blinding  the  three  men  there.  Verbeck  and  Kowen 
and  Lawrence  ran  back  to  the  open  door,  shading 
their  eyes  with  their  hands. 

The  light  disappeared  and  they  heard  the  Black 
Star's  voice.  "What  have  you  done  with  my  people?" 
he  shouted. 

"We've  put  handcuffs  on  'em,  you  crook!"  Kowen 
shrieked.  "And  we'll  do  as  much  for  you  one  of 
these  days !" 

"Watch  out!"  Verbeck  warned. 

Some  sixth  sense  seemed  to  tell  him  what  was 
coming.  And  it  did — a  vapor  bomb  that  burst 
not  ten  feet  from  the  doorway.  They  darted  back 
and  away  from  it.  They  saw  the  bright  light  flood 


MUGGS  GIVES  A  TIP  197 

the  roof  again.  Then  the  darkness  came  once  more, 
and  they  heard  nothing  more,  saw  nothing  more. 

"I'd  like  to  know  how  he  does  that!"  Kowen  said. 
"Does  he  hang  around  in  the  sky  like  a  star?  Well, 
he  didn't  rescue  anybody,  anyway!  That's  one 
comfort!" 

"He  hasn't  been  more  than  fifteen  minutes  getting 
here,"  Verbeck  said.  "But  we  don't  know  how  he 
is  traveling,  and  so  we  can't  judge  how  far  away 
his  headquarters  might  be.  That  telephone  num- 
ber  " 

"We  can  investigate  that,  at  any  rate,  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning,"  Kowen  said.  "I'll  get  the 
telephone  people  busy.  Now  I'll  take  these  prisoners 
down  to  the  jail  and  give  each  of  them  a  nice  little 
room,  American  plan." 

The  prisoners  were  taken  away,  the  excitement 
in  the  hotel  died  down,  Verbeck  went  to  Lawrence's 
suite  to  smoke  a  cigarette  and  get  away  from  the 
crowd  for  a  time,  and  finally  started  home. 

He  was  worrying  about  Muggs,  for  one  thing. 
He  was  hoping  that  the  valet  would  find  some  way 
in  which  he  could  be  of  service,  while  he  was  a 
prisoner  in  the  Black  Star's  headquarters.  He  knew 
that  Muggs  could  be  depended  upon  to  make  every 
effort. 

The  Black  Star's  threat — about  doing  something 
sensational  the  following  night — also  came  to  his 
mind.  Was  the  master  rogue  to  win  again?  Was 
there  no  way  in  which  he  could  be  stopped,  re- 
captured, put  behind  prison  bars?  Already  the  city 
was  in  the  grip  of  terror.  No  man  could  tell  where 
the  Black  Star  would  strike  next.  He  might  loot 
another  bank,  or  a  jewelry  store,  or  raid  the  jail 


198  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

in  an  effort  to  rescue  his  companions  in  crime. 
The  public  was  considering  everything — except  the 
thing  that  the  Black  Star  had  actually  planned  to  do. 

Mrs.  Richard  Branniton  completed  her  arrange- 
ments for  entertaining  the  distinguished  diplomats, 
Lord  Sambery  and  Sir  Burton  Banks,  and  had  no 
thought  that  the  master  criminal  might  pay  her  resi- 
dence a  visit  while  her  guests  were  enjoying  them- 
selves. 

Verbeck  reached  his  rooms  and  threw  himself  into 
an  easy-chair  to  rest.  He  did  not  fear  for  himself. 
He  did  not  think  that  the  Black  Star  would  make 
an  attempt  to  abduct  him  again,  for  prisoners  were 
only  in  the  way  at  the  master  criminal's  headquarters. 
Also,  there  were  half  a  dozen  plain-clothes  men  in 
the  apartment  house,  watching  everybody  who  en- 
tered, ready  to  act  in  any  emergency  that  might  pre- 
sent itself. 

It  was  too  early  to  retire,  so  Verbeck  smoked, 
and  tried  to  read  a  magazine,  but  found  that  he 
could  not  get  himself  interested.  He  disliked  to 
go  to  one  of  his  clubs,  for  all  the  other  members 
would  want  to  discuss  the  Black  Star  and  nothing 
else. 

He  started  across  the  room  to  get  a  favorite  book 
from  the  case,  but  whirled  around  and  went  back, 
because  the  telephone  had  run^. 

"Hello!"  he  called. 

"Verbeck?" 

"Yes." 

"This  is  the  Black  Star.  Some  of  my  men  have 
informed  me  how  Landers  and  the  two  women  were 
caught.  It  took  courage  to  climb  to  the  roof  the 
way  you  did,  but  that  is  not  the  point.  Those  three 


MUGGS  GIVES  A  TIE  199 

people  are  very  necessary  members  of  my  organiza- 
tion, and  I  want  them  released." 

Verbeck  laughed  into  the  telephone. 

"Have  you  called  the  sheriff?"  he  asked.  "He 
seems  to  be  the  man  in  charge  just  now." 

"I  have  not  called  the  sheriff  yet.  I  thought 
I'd  call  you  first,  and  get  you  to  influence  him. 
You  see,  Verbeck,  I  have  Muggs  here  with  me." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?" 

"Simply  this — if  I  have  to  descend  to  violence, 
I'll  do  it.  Nothing  shall  stop  me  from  having  my 
revenge  upon  the  city.  Unless  those  people  of 
mine  are  released  by  noon  to-morrow,  I'll  blow  the 
jail  off  the  map — and  I'll  attend  to  Mr.  Muggs." 

"In  what  way?"  Verbeck  asked. 

"I'll  simply  have  him  knocked  on  the  head  and 
dumped  into  the  river.  If  I  have  to  be  violent,  I'll 
be  a  proper  thug!  What  have  you  to  say?" 

"Nothing,  except  that  you  have  a  wonderful  nerve 
to  speak  as  you  do." 

"Perhaps  you  think  I  can't  blow  the  jail  to  pieces  ?" 

"I  do  not  say  you  can't,  but  I  don't  think  you'll 
do  it — not  with  Landers  and  The  Princess  inside  it." 

"And  maybe  you  think  I'd  hesitate  about  making 
away  with  Muggs,  do  you?" 

"I  scarcely  think  you'll  do  anything  of  the  sort," 
Verbeck  said.  "You  would  accomplish  nothing,  and 
you'd  be  hanged  for  murder  after  we  caught  you." 

"You  don't  think  I  am  serious,"  the  Black  Star 
replied.  "I  agreed  to  give  you  until  noon  to- 
morrow  " 

"But  I  couldn't  make  the  sheriff  turn  them  loose! 
You  may  be  sure  that  he'll  guard  them  well,  and 


200  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

see  that  they  stand  trial.  Why,  if  they  were  turned 
loose " 

"I'll  arrange  that.  They  are  to  be  freed  and 
put  in  the  middle  of  the  polo  field.  I'll  do  the  rest. 
On  second  thought,  I'll  give  you  more  time,  Verbeck, 
if  you  have  to  argue  with  the  sheriff.  I'm  going 
to  be  busy  to-morrow  night,  as  I  have  said.  I'll 
give  you  until  the  following  morning.  I'll  ring 
you  up  then  for  your  answer;  and  it  had  better 
be  what  I  want  to  hear." 

"You  actually  think  we'd  do  such  a  thing?"  Ver- 
beck asked.  "We'd  look  pretty,  wouldn't  we,  turning 
three  criminals  loose  because  another  criminal 
asked  it!" 

"Not  an  ordinary  criminal — but  the  Black  Star! 
And  I  don't  ask  it — I  demand  it!  Muggs  is  here, 
and  I  am  going  to  let  him  speak  to  you.  Perhaps 
you  don't  really  believe  that  he  is  here.  He'll  tell 
you  that  I  am  serious  and  mean  what  I  say." 

Verbeck  waited,  his  heart  pounding  at  his  ribs. 
If  Muggs  only  had  the  presence  of  mind,  if  he 

"Hello,  boss!"  came  Muggs'  voice  over  the  wire. 

"Hello,  Muggs." 

"I'm  sure  here  in  this  big  crook's  headquarters, 
boss.  I  don't  know  what  he  intends  to  hand  me, 
but  it'll  be  plenty." 

"Muggs,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  Verbeck 
asked. 

"Well,  maybe  I'm  prejudiced,"  Muggs  said,  "but 
I  don't  care  to  be  knocked  on  the  head  and  thrown 
in  any  river.  It  wouldn't  be  a  hard  job  for  them — 
the  river  ain't  far  away!"  That  was  a  hint,  at 
least.  "And  it  ain't  exactly  nice  to  be  croaked  with 
music  ringin'  in  your  ears " 


MUGGS  GIVES  A  TIP  201 

Verbeck  heard  an  exclamation  of  rage,  the  sound 
of  a  blow,  a  gasp,  and  then  nothing  more  except 
a  little  click  that  told  him  the  wire  was  dead.  Muggs 
had  tried  to  give  a  tip,  and  had  not  been  given  a 
chance  to  complete  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

ON   THE  TRAIL 

VERBECK  tried  to  remember  the  exact  words 
that  Muggs  had  spoken.  He  had  said  plainly 
that  the  headquarters  of  the  Black  Star  were  not 
far  from  the  river.  That  in  itself  was  a  help,  but 
not  a  very  great  one. 

There  were  thousands  of  places  in  the  city,  not 
'far  from  the  river,  where  the  Black  Star  could 
hide  and  where  the  members  of  his  band  could  visit 
him.  The  headquarters  might  be  in  a  warehouse 
on  the  water  front,  in  some  pretentious  mansion 
on  the  hills  overlooking  the  stream. 

And  what  else  was  it  that  Muggs  had  said?  That 
he  didn't  want  to  die  with  music  ringing  in  his 
ears !  Verbeck  wondered  what  that  might  mean, 
for  it  was  the  statement,  evidently,  that  had  caused 
such  a  quick  end  to  the  conversation. 

Verbeck  paced  the  floor  and  thought  it  out.  He 
knew  the  city  from  one  end  to  the  other.  He  had 
been  born  there,  reared  there,  had  watched  it  grow. 
Music  ringing  in  his  ears 

"The  resort  park!"  Verbeck  gasped.  "That's  what 
he  must  have  meant!  The  Black  Star's  headquarters 
will  be  found  near  the  river  and  near  the  resort 
park,  where  the  band  plays  every  afternoon  and 
evening!" 

Verbeck  rushed  to  the  telephone,  called  the  sheriff, 
and  asked  him  to  come  to  his  apartment  immediately. 


ON  THE  TRAIL  203 

"I've  got  a  tip  that's  better  than  the  last  one," 
he  said.  "Muggs  gave  it  to  me." 

"Muggs?" 

"Don't  ask  me  to  explain  now.  Hurry  up  here. 
And  have  the  telephone  people  investigate  that  num- 
ber I  gave  you,  and  report  to  you  here  about  it." 

Then  Verbeck  called  the  chief  of  police,  finally 
locating  him  at  his  home. 

"Chief,  there's  no  use  keeping  up  the  bluff  any 
longer,"  he  said.  "The  Black  Star  knows  very 
well  that  I  am  still  after  him.  I  wish  you'd  get 
over  to  my  apartment  as  soon  as  you  can.  I've 
got  something  important  to  tell  you.  Kowen  will  be 
here " 

"Why  did  you  call  Kowen?"  the  chief  demanded. 
"Couldn't  we  handle  it  alone?  I  understand  Kowen 
won  enough  glory  to-night  to  last  him  a  month." 

"Come  over,  and  do  your  quarreling  here!"  Ver- 
beck said. 

Kowen  was  the  first  to  arrive,  fifteen  minutes 
later. 

"What's  the  big  tip?"  he  asked.    "Anything  to  it?" 

"Wait  until  the  chief  gets  here." 

"Did  you  send  for  the  chief?  Was  that  necessary, 
Verbeck?  It  seems  to  me  that  we  worked  pretty 
well  together  this  evening.  Why  give  the  police 
some  of  the  credit?  I  lost  the  Black  Star,  re- 
member, and  I  ought  to  have  a  chance  to  get  him 
back!" 

"There'll  be  work  enough  for  all  of  us — and 
glory  enough,"  Verbeck  assured  him. 

Then  the  chief  came  storming  in  and  exchanged 
glares  with  the  sheriff. 

"Before  we  begin,   it  might  be  well  to  have  aq 


204  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

understanding,"  Verbeck  said.  "You  gentlemen  must 
stop  scrapping  and  become  allies.  We  have  a  big 
job  on  hand,  and  we  want  to  wind  it  up  as  quickly 
as  possible." 

Then  he  told  them  of  his  conversation  with  the 
Black  Star,  and  of  what  Muggs  had  said. 

"Let  them  go?"  Kowen  screeched.  "I'd  let  him 
wreck  the  town  first!  Those  crooks  are  in  jail, 
and  they're  going  to  stay  there!" 

"That  isn't  the  point,"  Verbeck  interrupted.  "It's 
the  little  tip  Muggs  gave  that  interests  us.  Accord- 
ing to  what  he  said,  the  Black  Star's  headquarters 
are  near  the  river,  and  I  believe,  when  he  spoke 
of  the  music,  that  he  meant  the  resort  park." 

"I  think  you're  right!"  the  chief  exclaimed. 

"But  where  could  the  headquarters  be  in  that 
locality?"  the  sheriff  wanted  to  know. 

"It's  our  job  to  find  out,"  the  chief  said,  "and 
we'll  start  at  daylight.  If  we  can  locate  it  before 
night,  perhaps  we  can  stop  whatever  it  is  that  the 
big  crook  intends  to  do." 

The  telephone  bell  rang  again.  The  call  was  for 
the  sheriff,  and  he  spent  some  time  listening  to  the 
person  at  the  other  end  of  the  wire.  When  he 
turned  toward  them  again,  his  face  was  beaming. 

"It  begins  to  look  good,"  he  said.  "That  was 
from  the  manager  of  the  telephone  company.  He 
looked  up  that  number  that  Landers  called.  It  is  a 
little  summer  cottage  far  up  the  river  beyond  the 
resort  park." 

"Great!"  the  chief  exclaimed.  "We'll  land  'em 
yet !" 

"But  that  isn't  the  funny  thing  about  it.  The 
manager  says  he  sent  a  man  out  there  in  a  machine. 


ON  THE  TRAIL  205 

There  is  nobody  living  in  the  cottage,  and  there 
hasn't  been  for  months,  yet  the  telephone  bills  have 
been  paid  regularly." 

"Meaning,"  said  Verbeck,  "that  the  bills  are  paid 
by  one  of  the  Black  Star's  organization.  Of  course 
his  headquarters  are  not  in  the  cottage.  But  we'll 
find  the  place  somewhere  in  that  locality." 

"Where  do  you  get  that?"   Kowen  asked. 

"It  means  simply  that  somewhere  between  the 
cottage  and  the  next  station  on  the  line,  the  Black 
Sar  has  plugged  in  on  the  wire.  When  that  number 
is  called,  the  bell  rings  in  his  own  headquarters. 
When  he  calls,  it  appears  to  the  switchboard  operator 
that  the  number  is  calling." 

"I  believe  you've  got  it!"  the  chief  cried. 

"In  the  morning,  you  can  go  to  that  cottage  and 
follow  the  wire,  examine  every  foot  of  it,  discover 
where  the  other  wire  is  plugged  in,  follow  it,  and 
find  the  place  that  we  want.  Other  men  can  search 
through  the  neighborhood.  We're  on  the  right 
track !" 

For  another  hour  they  worked  perfecting  their 
plans,  and  then  the  chief  and  the  sheriff,  friendly 
again,  took  their  departure.  Verbeck  left  a  call 
at  the  office  for  an  early  hour,  and  made  haste  to 
retire  and  fortify  himself  with  sleep. 

He  was  up  soon  after  break  of  day,  had  his  bath 
and  breakfast,  and  went  down  to  get  his  roadster 
from  the  garage,  feeling  particularly  fit.  He  drove 
immediately  to  police  headquarters  and  went  into  the 
private  office  of  the  chief,  who  with  Sheriff  Kowen 
was  waiting  for  him. 

"I  had  twenty  men  out  there  at  daybreak  work- 
ing on  that  telephone  line,"  the  chief  said.  "They 


206  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

are  scattered,  of  course — look  like  linemen.  In  fact, 
they  are  making  a  bluff  at  stringing  a  new  line — 
but  they  are  searching  for  the  place  where  the  Black 
Star  taps  the  wire.  It  wouldn't  surprise  me  much  to 
find  that  the  Black  Star  knows  as  much  about  our 
plans  as  we  know  ourselves — he  seems  to  be  able  to 
get  all  the  information  he  wants — but  maybe  we 
can  get  the  better  of  the  fiend  this  time!" 

"Are  we  going  to  wait  here  for  that  wire  squad 
to  report?"  Kowen  asked. 

"No;  there  is  no  use  in  that,"  the  chief  replied. 
"I  have  sent  twenty  more  men  out  there — all  in 
plain  clothes.  They  went  out  a  couple  at  a  time; 
have  been  going  out  since  midnight.  Some  are  near 
the  resort  park  and  others  are  scattered  through  the 
woods.  Did  you  send  your  deputies  to  the  other 
side,  sheriff?" 

"I  did;  between  us  we  have  men  on  the  north, 
east  and  south,  and  the  river  is  on  the  west.  Maybe 
we  have  that  crook's  headquarters  surrounded,  and 
maybe  we  haven't." 

"We  may  as  well  start  out  there,"  Verbeck  put  in. 

The  chief  got  into  the  roadster  with  him;  the 
sheriff  had  a  car  of  his  own,  driven  by  a  deputy. 
They  drove  rapidly  through  the  city  and  out  along 
the  river  road.  They  came  to  the  resort,  and  got 
out  and  parked  their  cars.  The  sheriff  and  the 
chief  began  receiving  reports  from  their  forces. 

All  the  buildings  in  the  resort  had  been  searched 
well,  and  nothing  found.  Men  had  discovered  noth- 
ing suspicious  in  the  woods.  There  was  a  large 
fish  cannery  near,  and  it  had  been  investigated  thor- 
oughly. The  men  scattered  around  the  woods  were 
closing  in,  drawing  the  net  tighter. 


ON  THE  TRAIL  207 

The  wire  squad  was  at  work.  They  had  followed 
the  wire  from  the  little  cottage,  after  making  an 
investigation  there  and  being  sure  that  the  cottage 
was  not  the  entrance  to  a  subterranean  abode  used 
by  the  Black  Star.  Even  while  the  man  in  charge 
of  .the  squad  was  making  his  report,  word  was 
flashed  down  the  line  that  the  extra  wire  had  been 
found. 

The  sheriff  and  chief  got  into  Verbeck's  machine, 
and  he  drove  them  a  quarter  of  a  mile  down  the 
road.  The  wire  had  been  tapped  in  a  very  clever 
manner,  as  one  of  the  electricians  of  the  department 
explained.  It  was  running  underground,  through  a 
small  cable. 

The  chief  called  for  more  of  his  men,  and  they 
began  unearthing  the  line.  It  seemed  to  run  straight 
toward  the  east,  and  through  the  woods.  The 
chief  sent  a  captain  and  half  a  dozen  men  ahead 
of  the  wire  squad. 

"We're  getting  close  to  them,  I  think,"  the  chief 
declared.  "I  feel  that  this  is  going  to  be  our  lucky 
day." 

After  a  time  they  found  a  telephone  instrument 
attached  to  the  wire  and  hidden  beneath  a  heap  of 
brush.  Next  they  came  upon  the  old  farmhouse, 
with  the  wire  fence  around  it.  There  the  telephone 
wire  left  the  ground  and  ran  from  tree  to  tree 
through  the  grove,  to  disappear  into  the  building. 

"There!"  the  chief  said.  "We'll  get  the  place 
surrounded " 

He  gave  quick  orders,  and  the  force  of  officers 
began  closing  in.  Within  a  few  minutes,  the  house 
had  a  circle  of  determined  men  around  it.  Verbeck 


208  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

and  the  chief  had  been  watching  it  closely,  while  the 
sheriff  placed  the  men.  They  had  seen  no  sign  of  life. 

"Probably  gone — if  this  is  really  the  place,"  Ver- 
beck  said.  "It  wouldn't  have  been  difficult  for  the 
Black  Star  to  learn  our  plans,  and  he  had  all  night 
in  which  to  get  away." 

"Well,  we'll  get  in  there,  anyway,"  the  chief  said. 
"It  may  be  our  luck  that  he  is  still  there  with 
some  of  his  gang.  If  he  is  gone,  and  had  to  get 
out  in  a  hurry,  he  might  have  left  something  behind 
that  will  give  us  a  clew  as  to  what  he  intends  doing 
to-night." 

"And  we  could  put  a  lot  of  trust  in  that,  couldn't 
we?"  said  Roger  Verbeck.  "He  won  over  us  before, 
because  we  gave  considerable  attention  to  some  bogus 
orders  he  left  on  a  table  in  a  bogus  headquarters — 
don't  forget  that." 

"I'm  not  liable  to;  the  precious  newspapers  won't 
let  me,"  said  the  chief. 

The  men  were  creeping  through  the  brush  now, 
approaching  the  fence.  Verbeck  had  the  chief  issue 
an  order  for  them  to  stop. 

"I  don't  like  the  looks  of  that  fence,"  he  said. 
"You'll  notice  that  the  house  is  old  and  weather- 
beaten,  and  about  to  fall  to  pieces,  from  its  appear- 
ance; but  the  fence  is  a  substantial  one,  and  new. 
I  have  an  idea  that  the  man  who  touches  that  fence 
will  meet  with  serious  trouble." 

"By  George,  it  is  a  new  fence!"  the  chief  admitted. 

"Wait!"   Verbeck   said. 

He  crawled  forward  alone,  foot  by  foot,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  glance  toward  the  old  farmhouse, 
and  made  his  way  toward  the  fence  that  held  the 
deadly  current. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

END     OF     THE     TRAIL 

HALF  a  dozen  feet  from  the  fence  Verbeck 
stopped.  He  watched  the  house  for  a  couple 
of  minutes,  and  then  advanced  another  pace.  He 
was  within  three  feet  of  the  fence  now,  and  he  saw 
what  he  had  expected — wires  and  cables  of  metal 
cunningly  woven  in  the  mesh  of  the  structure  itself, 
and  in  such  manner  that  the  whole  thing  would  be 
charged  when  a  current  was  turned  on. 

The  chief  had  crawled  up  behind  Verbeck. 

"That  fence  is  deadly!"  Verbeck  said.  "The  Black 
Star  used  something  like  this  once  before,  you'll 
remember,  and  half  a  dozen  men  were  seriously 
shocked  and  burned.  We  don't  dare  try  to  pass 
it  at  present.  The  current  may  or  may  not  be  run- 
ning through  it.  We  can't  take  the  chance.  If 
the  gate  was  open,  we  probably  could  pass  through 
without  danger,  but  the  gate  is  a  part  of  the  circuit." 

"Well,  are  we  going  to  let  a  fence  tie  us  up?" 
the  chief  asked.  "If  the  Black  Star  and  his  band 
are  inside,  every  minute  we  spend  out  here  gives 
them  a  chance  to  get  ready  for  us." 

"Warn    the   men!"    Verbeck    said. 

The  chief  sent  the  word  around  the  circle  of 
officers — nobody  was  to  touch  the  fence,  since  it 
probably  was  charged  with  a  deadly  current,  and 
shocks  and  burns  would  result.  Sheriff  Kowen  had 
crawled  up  to  them  through  the  brush. 

"Look!"  he  exclaimed  suddenly. 


I 
210  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

A  dog,  attracted  by  the  men  in  the  woods,  had 
been  running  from  one  group  to  another.  Now, 
chasing  a  stick  one  of  the  men  had  thrown,  he 
brushed  against  the  fence.  A  single  yelp  came  from 
him;  and  he  was  stretched  on  the  ground,  apparently 
lifeless. 

"You  see?"  Verbeck  said.  "Perhaps  it  wouldn't 
kill  a  man,  but  it  would  burn  him  badly,  and  put 
him  out  of  the  game." 

"We've  got  to  get  through!"  the  chief  declared. 
"And  how  are  we  going  to  do  it?" 

One  of  the  electricians  had  crawled  forward,  and 
they  explained  the  situation  to  him. 

"If  the  current  is  that  strong,  we  can't  fool  with 
it,"  he  said  earnestly.  "Electricity  isn't  a  timid 
plaything  at  best,  and  a  dose  like  that  fence  hands 
out  is  too  much  for  anybody.  You'll  notice  that 
the  dog  hasn't  moved;  he's  dead.  And  since  we 
can't  get  through  that  fence " 

"We  can  go  over  it!"  Verbeck  added. 

"How?"    the   chief   and    sheriff  asked   in   chorus. 

"Bridge  the  thing,"  said  Verbeck.  "We've  got 
men  enough,  and  there  are  trees  enough." 

"It'll  be  one  ticklish  job,"  the  electrician  warned. 

"But  it  can  be  done,"  Verbeck  declared.  "Chief, 
have  all  your  men  watch  the  house  closely.  If 
anybody  in  there  tries  to  interfere  with  me,  bom- 
bard the  place." 

Verbeck  sprang  up  and  ran  parallel  to  the  fence 
for  a  distance  of  half  a  hundred  feet.  He  had 
spotted  a  big  tree  there  that  had  a  projecting  branch 
not  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground — a  branch  half  a 
foot  in  diameter  that  extended  over  the  fence  and 
into  the  yard  about  the  house.  He  swung  himself 


END  OF  THE  TRAIL  211 

into  the  tree,  reached  the  branch,  and  crept  out  along 
it.  He  crossed  over  the  deadly  fence,  hesitated  a 
moment,  and  dropped.  Roger  Verbeck  was  inside. 

He  found  that  he  was  partially  screened  from 
the  house  by  a  clump  of  brush.  He  turned  his  back 
upon  the  house  and  crept  toward  the  fence  again. 
The  chief  and  sheriff  hurried  to  meet  him. 

"Almost  all  your  men  can  do  as  I  have  done," 
Verbeck  said.  "We  don't  even  have  to  bridge  it. 
Have  them  come  over,  one  by  one,  and  have  the 
others  watch  the  house  closely.  If  the  Black  Star 
or  any  of  his  men  are  in  there,  they  know  we  are 
after  them  and  are  watching  us." 

The  chief  issued  the  orders.  The  men  made  the 
perilous  trip  one  at  a  time,  and  dropped  to  the 
ground  beside  Verbeck.  Twenty  men  in  all  crossed 
over,  and  left  the  others  to  guard  outside  the  fence, 
maintaining  the  blockade  around  the  house. 

Not  a  sign  had  come  from  within  to  show  that 
their  presence  was  known.  But  Verbeck  and  those 
who  had  fought  against  the  Black  Star  before 
knew  that  that  did  not  mean  safety.  It  was  like 
the  Black  Star  to  wait  for  the  proper  moment  be- 
fore striking. 

"Be  careful,  you  men!"  Verbeck  warned.  "We 
are  fighting  the  Black  Star,  please  remember,  and 
he  can  be  unscrupulous  at  times.  You  may  consider 
yourselves  in  danger  from  the  moment  we  start 
toward  the  house.  In  his  old  headquarters  he  had 
some  of  the  most  diabolical  traps  known  to  man; 
and  you  always  find  them  where  you  least  expect 
them.  Beware  of  the  doors  and  windows.  In- 
vestigate them  before  you  touch  them;  and  if  we 


212  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

get  inside  the  place,  be  alert  continually.  You  may 
expect  pitfalls,  vapor  bombs — anything!" 

The  officers  scattered  and  surrounded  the  house 
inside  the  fence.  Those  on  the  outside  crept  as  close 
as  they  dared,  weapons  held  ready,  and  watched 
the  doors  and  windows. 

On  and  on  went  those  inside  the  fence,  until  they 
were  almost  against  the  walls.  The  chief,  the  sheriff, 
and  Verbeck  were  at  the  front. 

"Doesn't  seem  to  be  anybody  around/'  the  chief 
said.  "They  got  wise  and  left,  I  suppose.  Well, 
we'll  investigate  the  place  anyway,  since  we  are  here." 

He  started  up  the  steps  that  led  to  the  small 
veranda  at  the  front  of  the  house.  His  foot  struck 
the  lowest  step. 

There  was  a  sharp  explosion,  and  half  the  veranda 
was  torn  away.  Verbeck  and  the  others  reeled  back- 
ward. A  cloud  of  smoke  filled  the  air;  and  it 
was  not  the  pungent  vapor  used  by  the  Black  Star 
in  his  bombs. 

"That  was  the  real  thing!"  Verbeck  declared. 

The  chief  was  pale  and  trembling  as  he  retreated. 

"I'll  get  that  fiend!"  he  declared.  "Look  at  the 
hole  that  explosion  made  in  the  porch  floor!  If 
a  man  had  been  over  that " 

"They  set  it  off  too  quick!"  the  sheriff  said. 
"We've  got  to  move  carefully,  or  we'll  be  having 
casualties." 

"We  must  take  that  chance!"  the  chief  said. 
"We've  got  to  get  that  fiend,  and  policemen  are  paid 
to  run  into  trouble  when  it  is  necessary.  Into  the 
house,  men!  Get  in  any  way  that  you  can!  Try 
to  take  care  of  yourselves,  but  get  in!" 

The  officers  cheered  and  shouted.     They  plunged 


END  OF  THE  TRAIL  213 

toward  windows  and  doors.  They  smashed  panes 
of  glass  in,  and  hurled  themselves  against  doors 
as  if  they  knew  no  fear. 

Half  a  dozen  explosions  came,  but  no  man  was 
injured.  Here  and  there  a  policeman  made  an  en- 
trance, and  others  followed  him.  Within  five  min- 
utes Verbeck  and  the  chief  and  Kowen  found  that 
all  were  inside,  gathered  in  the  big  hall  at  the  front 
of  the  house,  and  that  no  man  had  received  a  scratch. 

"I  guess  we're  on  the  right  trail,  sure  enough!" 
the  chief  said. 

"And  this  is  where  we  must  be  careful,"  declared 
Roger  Verbeck.  "This  is  where  we  are  liable  to 
run  into  traps." 

The  search  of  the  house  began.  There  were  but 
two  floors  and  the  basement,  and  the  search  started 
at  the  top.  There  the  officers  found  nothing  except 
unoccupied  rooms  that  were  filled  with  dust.  They 
even  went  into  the  garret,  and  found  nothing  except 
a  heap  of  discarded  clothing  that  looked  as  if  it 
had  been  there  for  years. 

Next  they  searched  the  ground  floor.  In  the  rear 
was  a  kitchen,  almost  immaculate,  with  its  pots  and 
pans  and  stores  of  food.  There  were  three  bed- 
chambers that  appeared  to  be  in  constant  use.  And 
that  was  all. 

"I  suppose  it  is  in  the  basement,  as  usual,"  Verbeck 
said. 

"Careful,  men!"  the  chief  warned.  "If  they  are 
in  the  basement,  they'll  put  up  a  fight.  That  big 
crook  knows  what  is  in  store  for  him  when  he's 
caught,  so  you  don't  want  to  bank  too  much  on  that 
old  bunk  of  his  that  he  abhors  violence.  A  cornered 
rat  will  put  up  a  stiff  fight!" 


214  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

They  found  the  basement  door.  Roger  Verbeck 
went  forward,  grasped  the  knob,  and  'jerked  the 
door  open  suddenly.  Again  there  was  a  rending 
explosion,  and  the  panels  and  framework  were  shat- 
tered. Back  through  the  hall  staggered  Verbeck 
and  the  others.  The  vapor  the  master  crook  used 
was  mingled  with  the  smoke  of  the  explosion,  and 
was  sweeping  through  the  hall. 

But  the  police  had  been  prepared  for  it.  They 
ran  to  the  open  windows  and  inhaled  the  fresli  air, 
remaining  there  until  the  poisonous  fumes  had  been 
swept  out  of  the  open  front  door.  Then  they  rushed 
back  into  the  hall. 

Before  them  was  a  stairway  shrouded  in  dense 
darkness.  Verbeck  took  an  electric  torch  in  one 
hand  and  his  automatic  in  the  other,  and  began 
the  descent,  a  detective  immediately  behind  him.  He 
flashed  the  torch  on  the  stairs,  hesitated  before 
treading  upon  each  one,  made  his  way  step  by  step 
toward  the  bottom,  expecting  every  instant  to  hear 
the  crash  of  another  explosion. 

He  reached  the  end  of  the  flight,  and  found 
himself  in  a  narrow  hall.  Along  this  he  went,  a 
file  of  other  men  behind  him.  He  came  to  a  door. 

"This  seems  to  be  the  place,"  he  whispered.  "If 
they  are  inside,  we  are  due  for  a  warm  reception." 

He  grasped  the  handle  and  jerked  the  door  open. 
This  time  there  was  no  explosion.  He  flashed 
his  torch  again.  In  front  of  the  door  was  a  heavy 
curtain  of  some  sort. 

Verbeck  put  out  his  hand  and  moved  the  curtain 
aside  gently.  He  could  see  into  the  room — could  see 
in  the  path  of  the  electric  torch,  and  that  was  all. 

Verbeck  knew  that  the   situation  was   precarious. 


END  OF  THE  TRAIL  315 

It  meant  something  to  enter  a  dark  room  in  which 
the  Black  Star  and  some  of  his  men  might  be 
waiting.  It  took  courage,  the  more  so  since  Roger 
Verbeck  was  well  acquainted  with  the  master  rogue's 
methods,  and  realized  that  the  Black  Star  was  fighting 
for  freedom  now. 

"Hold  the  curtain — and  wait!"  Verbeck  whispered 
to  the  man  nearest  him. 

He  slipped  inside  the  curtain  and  stood  with  his 
back  against  it.  He  had  extinguished  the  torch. 
There  was  not  a  glimmer  of  light,  not  the  slightest 
sound. 

Verbeck  held  his  automatic  ready,  and  suddenly 
flashed  the  torch  in  his  left  hand.  He  played  it 
down  the  length  of  the  room,  sweeping  the  streak 
of  light  from  side  to  side. 

"In!"  he  cried  to  the  others.     "Torches!" 

They  crowded  into  the  room,  their  lights  flashing. 
The  room  was  thoroughly  illuminated.  The  chief 
gave  a  cry  that  was  echoed  by  the  sheriff  and 
the  others. 

Without  a  doubt,  they  were  in  the  Black  Star's 
headquarters.  Verbeck  knew  the  room  instantly  for 
the  one  in  which  he  had  been  prisoner  for  a  short 
time.  There  were  the  long  table,  the  blackboards, 
and  on  the  table  a  black  robe  and  mask  that  had 
been  discarded  by  some  member  of  the  band. 

"Careful!"  the  chief  warned. 

"I  don't  think  there  is  any  need  of  caution," 
said  Roger  Verbeck.  "I  have  an  idea  that  neither 
the  Black  Star  nor  any  of  his  people  are  around 
the  place.  He  knew  we  had  got  on  the  right  trail — 
and  he  has  moved.  The  Black  Star  always  has  an- 
other headquarters  prepared,  remember.  He  moved 


*i6  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

half  a  dozen  times  the  last  time  we  fought  against 
him.  There  is  a  lamp  on  the  table — one  of  you 
nien  light  it." 

Verbeck  walked  across  the  room  to  the  black- 
board, upon  which  there  was  some  fine  writing. 

"I  thought  so!"  he  exclaimed. 

This  is  what  he  read: 

GENTLEMEN  :  I  am  aware  that  you  are  going 
to  locate  the  place  where  I  live  and  work,  and 
so  I  suppose  I  am  forced  to  move.  Had  not 
that  fool  of  a  Landers  telephoned  me  from  the 
roof  of  the  hotel,  had  not  Roger  Verbeck  over- 
heard the  number  he  called,  I  would  have  been 
•safe  here  as  long  as  I  wished  to  remain. 

I  am  leaving  for  a  new  place  that  already 
lias  been  prepared  for  me.  I  am  taking  Muggs 
along  as  a  sort  of  hostage.  There  is  no  rush, 
•since  I  have  all  night  to  make  the  move. 

When  I  go,  I  shall  leave  bombs  attached  to 
some  of  the  windows  and  doors,  and  connected 
with  the  veranda  steps.  They  will  annoy  you, 
perhaps,  and  make  you  think  that  you  are  brave 
men  rushing  into  danger.  It  is  just  a  little  joke. 

For  this  inconvenience,  the  city  shall  be  made 
to  pay  dearly,  of  course.  It  costs  me  some- 
thing each  time  I  move  my  headquarters.  I 
have  to  leave  furniture  behind,  and  I  have  to 
inform  all  my  people  of  the  new  location.  But 
the  people  of  the  city  shall  pay!  To-night,  I 
strike,  and  I  shall  strike  hard  I  *  *  *  *  * 

'Tooled  again!"  the  chief  shrieked,  in  rage.  "And 
\ve  were  on  the  right  trail,  too!" 


END  OF  THE  TRAIL  217 

"We'll  get  him  yet!"  declared  Sheriff  Kowen, 
"Some  of  his  people  will  make  another  slip "" 

"And,  in  the  meantime,"  Roger  Verbeck  inter- 
rupted, "we'd  better  be  preparing  for  to-night  and 
what  it  may  bring  forth.  After  this,  the  Black  Star 
will  strike  with  twice  his  usual  strength  and  cun- 
ning. He  has  said  he  would — and  the  crook  always; 
keeps  his  word!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  BIG  BLOW 

REDUCED  to  a  state  of  unconsciousness  by  means 
of  a  vapor  gun,  Muggs  was  moved,  some  time 
during  the  night,  to  the  new  headquarters.  When 
he  regained  consciousness  he  found  himself  in  a 
room  similar  to  the  old  one,  except  that  it  was 
somewhat  smaller.  Muggs  did  not  know  in  what 
section  of  the  city  he  was. 

The  Black  Star  was  speaking  over  the  telephone, 
and  as  Muggs  sat  up  on  the  couch,  he  hung  up  the 
receiver  and  turned  around. 

"Well,  Muggs,  we  have  had  a  bit  of  excitement," 
the  master  crook  said.  "Verbeck  risked  his  life 
to  get  to  the  roof  of  a  certain  hotel,  but  he  managed 
to  get  a  telephone  number  that  caused  us  considerable 
trouble.  I  have  just  received  a  report  from  one 
of  my  men.  He  tells  me  that  Verbeck,  and  a 
squad  of  police  and  deputies,  have  surrounded  the 
old  house  and  are  creeping  upon  it  as  if  it  contained 
a  crowd  of  desperate  characters.  They  will  have 
some  excitement,  too,  Muggs,  and  then  will  discover 
nothing  but  an  empty  nest." 

"Yeh?"  Muggs  asked.  "They'll  discover  you,  too, 
one  of  these  days;  and  then  I  hope  they  give  you 
life!" 

"Inclined  toward  violence  again,  Muggs,  when  I 
have  been  treating  you  so  nicely?  I  am  really 
ashamed  of  you." 

"As  if   I  cared!"   Muggs   scoffed. 


THE  BIG  BLOW  219 

"I  am  thinking  of  taking  you  along  to-night, 
Muggs,  when  we  call  upon  Mrs.  Richard  Branniton 
and  her  guests.  But  if  you  are  not  a  good  boy,  I 
shall  leave  you  at  home." 

The  Black  Star  chuckled  and  turned  toward  the 
end  of  the  table.  The  bell  on  the  wall  tinkled, 
and  a  robed  and  masked  man  entered  and  went  to 
the  blackboard,  which  here  was  installed  on  one 
side  of  the  room. 

"Number  Three,"  he  wrote. 

"Countersign?" 

"Colorado." 

"Report,"  wrote  the  Black  Star. 

"Lord  Sambery  and  Sir  Burton  Banks  arrived  on 
time  and  now  are  at  the  Branniton  house." 

"Any  new  developments?" 

"None  have  been  learned.  We  are  watching 
closely,"  wrote  Number  Three. 

"I  have  decided  to  seize  Branniton  himself  to- 
night, with  the  other  two,  and  hold  him  for  ransom," 
the  Black  Star  wrote.  "You  will  have  your  squad 
attend  to  it,  and  be  sure  that  they  do  not  fail. 
The  man  who  prosecuted  me  must  be  punished." 

"I  shall  attend  to  it,  and  warn  the  men  that  they 
must  not  fail." 

"There  have  been  no  changes  in  transportation 
means?" 

"None   whatever." 

"That  is  all.     Retire,"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 

The  man  backed  through  the  door  and  closed  it 
after  him. 

"You're  goin'  to  run  against  a  snag,"  Muggs 
told  the  Black  Star.  "You're  bitin'  off  more  than 
you  can  chew,  and  it's  likely  to  choke  you!" 


220  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"I  scarcely  think  so,  Muggs.  This  little  affair 
is  so  well  planned  that  there  can  be  no  failure. 
It  is  the  master  stroke  of  my  career.  It  will  add 
to  my  fame,  and,  at  the  same  time,  it  will  be 
highly  profitable.  When  the  news  gets  out,  the 
country  will  be  shocked." 

"You  go  to  monkeyin'  with  the  government,  and 
you'll  get  yours!"  Muggs  told  him  again.  "Them 
gents  are  guests  of  the  government,  ain't  they?" 

"I  should  think  that  they  were,  Muggs.  They 
are  here  on  very  important  international  business.  I 
may  mention  that  it  is  so  important  that  I  expect 
to  collect  the  ransom  within  forty-eight  hours.  I 
understand  there  are  certain  negotiations  pending, 
and  that  there  can  be  no  delay." 

The  Black  Star  sat  down  at  the  end  of  the  table 
and  began  consulting  his  memorandum  book  again, 
completely  ignoring  Muggs,  who  remained  sitting  on 
the  couch.  Muggs'  hands  were  lashed  together,  and 
he  knew  that  he  was  being  watched  continually. 
And  yet  he  felt  that  he  had  a  duty  to  perform. 

"I  ain't  helpin'  the  boss  at  all,"  Muggs  mused. 
"I  tried  to,  once,  and  I  fell  down.  If  this  big  crook 
puts  that  over  to-night,  it'll  make  the  boss  a  bigger 
laughingstock  than  before.  Gee,  I  wish  I  could  do 
somethin' !" 

Verbeck  was  wishing  the  same  thing  late  that 
afternoon.  When  it  came  to  locating  the  new  head- 
quarters of  the  master  crook,  the  police  and  deputies 
admitted  that  they  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn. 

Meanwhile  the  city  was  in  terror.  The  Black 
Star  had  said  that  he  would  strike  to-night — and 
strike  hard.  Banks  and  financial  institutions  were 
sending  in  frantic  demands  that  they  be  given  ade- 


THE  BIG  BLOW  221 

quate  police  protection.  Jewelry  establishments  were 
doing  the  same.  Private  detective  agencies  were 
swamped  with  orders  for  operatives.  From  one 
end  of  the  city  to  the  other,  men  and  women  asked 
the  question,  where  would  the  Black  Star  strike? 

•Mrs.  Richard  Branniton  was  not  thinking  of  the 
master  rogue.  She  was  busy  entertaining  her  dis- 
tinguished guests.  Luncheon  had  been  served,  and 
they  were  being  shown  the  city.  Then  they  returned 
to  the  Branniton  residence,  and  sought  their  suites 
to  get  some  rest  before  the  reception  of  the  evening. 

Branniton  had  engaged  four  more  private  detec- 
tives, making  eight  in  all,  and  had  planned  to  have 
them  scattered  about  the  house.  But  that  was  the 
ordinary  safeguard  against  ordinary  jewel  thieves, 
and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Black  Star.  Bran- 
niton  was  not  thinking  of  the  master  crook,  either. 
His  mind  was  upon  the  fact  that  he  was  gathering 
political  influence  by  entertaining  the  two  famous 
diplomats. 

Late  that  afternoon,  Roger  Verbeck  went  to  police 
headquarters  for  a  conference  with  the  chief  and 
Sheriff  Kowen. 

"We  can't  do  anything  except  have  our  men 
waiting  and  ready,"  the  chief  said.  "I've  received 
about  a  thousand  reports  from  my  men,  and  there 
isn't  one  of  them  worth  the  paper  it's  written  on. 
They  seem  to  think  they've  got  to  report  something 
or  get  into  trouble  with  me.  The  papers  are  right — 
the  police  are  a  gang  of  fools  and  court  jesters!" 

"Well,  what  can  we  do?"  Kowen  complained. 
"Did  we  get  credit  for  getting  on  that  crook's  trail? 
We  did  not.  The  evening  papers  are  roasting  us 


222  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

because  we  didn't  nab  him.  I'm  getting  pretty  sick 
of  this  business!" 

"We  wouldn't  be  in  this  business  if  you  hadn't 
been  asleep  and  let  that  gang  get  the  Black  Star 
out  of  jail!"  the  chief  reminded  him. 

"Wait!"  Verbeck  commanded.  "Are  we  going  to 
fight  among  ourselves?  Is  that  a  way  to  catch  the 
Black  Star?" 

"What's  the  matter  with  Muggs?"  the  chief  de- 
manded. 

"The  chances  are  that  Muggs  is  not  able  to  do 
anything,"  Verbeck  replied.  "I  can  imagine  that  he 
is  being  watched  closely  since  he  gave  me  that  little 
tip  over  the  telephone;  and  I'm  hoping  that  nothing 
worse  has  happened  to  him.  Muggs,  you  may  be 
sure,  will  help  us  if  he  gets  the  chance." 

Nightfall  found  them  still  at  police  headquarters. 
They  had  sent  out  for  something  to  eat.  The 
police  reserves  had  been  gathered.  Kowen  had  his 
deputies  ready.  The  Black  Star,  they  knew,  might 
strike  at  eight  in  the  evening,  at  midnight,  at  three 
in  the  morning.  They  had  to  be  ready.  Their  one 
hope  was  to  get  a  quick  alarm,  to  reach  the  scene 
in  time  to  capture  the  master  rogue,  or  at  least 
important  members  of  his  band. 

The  residence  of  Richard  Branniton  was  a  blaze 
of  light.  Guests  were  arriving — prominent  men, 
beautiful  women,  bejeweled  leaders  of  the  city's 
society.  An  orchestra  was  playing  in  the  ballroom. 
Men  and  women  were  greeting  one  another,  laugh- 
ing and  chatting. 

The  Branniton  residence  was  surrounded  by  wide 
lawns  studded  with  big  maple  trees.  Here  and  there 
were  dark  spaces  not  reached  by  the  lights  from 


THE  BIG  BLOW  223 

either  the  house  or  the  street.  Two  blocks  away 
was  a  small  park. 

At  nine  thirty  o'clock  several  men  approached  this 
park  singly,  each  acting  as  if  he  was  going  about 
his  business  or  hurrying  to  his  home.  They  fol- 
lowed the  walks,  and  now  and  then  they  passed 
and  whispered  a  few  words  to  one  another. 

More  men  happened  to  walk  through  the  alley  in 
the  rear  of  the  Branniton  house.  Some  of  these 
men  had  bundles  beneath  their  arms.  There  was 
a  door  in  the  alley  wall,  and  before  it  was  a  caterer's 
wagon.  Men  were  carrying  refreshments  into  the 
house. 

At  one  of  the  corners  of  the  residence,  in  the 
rear,  there  was  a  small  veranda  that  was  shrouded 
in  darkness.  While  the  caterer's  men  were  carrying 
in  the  provisions,  several  of  the  other  men,  who 
had  been  in  the  alley,  slipped  through  the  door  and 
sought  the  dark  veranda.  Crouched  there,  they 
waited. 

Here  and  there  a  shadow  flitted  across  the  lawn 
from  dark  spot  to  dark  spot — but  the  shadows  were 
men.  A  big  limousine  stopped  on  a  side  street  half 
a  block  away,  the  shades  drawn  at  all  its  windows. 
A  truck  stalled  on  the  other  side  street,  apparently, 
and  four  men  in  it  worked  at  the  engine.  Finally 
one  left,  saying  he  would  telephone  for  help. 

Across  the  avenue  from  the  Branniton  residence 
a  crowd  had  gathered  to  watch  the  guests  arrive, 
muttering  when  two  police  officers  urged  them  to 
move  on.  In  the  crowd  were  several  men  who  gave 
one  another  knowing  looks  now  and  then. 

The  last  guests  arrived.  The  hour  of  ten  struck. 
Inside  the  Branniton  house  the  orchestra  was  play- 


224  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

ing  and  couples  were  dancing.  Mrs.  Richard  Bran- 
niton  was  beaming  upon  her  guests,  and  her  husband 
was  seeking  to  make  an  impression  upon  Sir  Burton 
Banks  and  Lord  Sambery.  Branniton  had  hopes  of 
receiving  an  important  diplomatic  post  abroad. 

As  the  hour  of  ten  struck,  the  men  beside  the 
dark  rear  veranda  unfastened  the  bundles  they  had 
been  carrying,  and  put  on  black  robes  and  masks. 
More  men  approached  the  house  from  the  other 
side,  keeping  in  the  shadows,  and  when  they  reached 
the  darkness  near  the  wall  put  on  robes  and  masks. 

At  ten  minutes  after  the  hour  of  ten,  thirty  men 
had  gathered  beside  the  dark  veranda,  and  fifteen 
more  were  scattered  near  the  house,  on  guard.  In 
the  midst  of  these  thirty  men,  the  Black  Star  sud- 
denly appeared. 

"I  want  no  mistakes!"  he  whispered.  "Is  every 
man  in  his  proper  place?" 

"Yes,   sir,"   one  of  them  replied. 

"One  of  the  waiters  is  a  man  of  ours.  Has  he 
reported  ?" 

"Not  yet,   sir." 

They  waited  a  few  minutes,  and  another  man 
slipped  around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"Everything  is  ready,  sir,"  he  reported.  He  was 
the  waiter. 

"How  soon  can  you  do  your  part?"  the  Black 
Star  asked. 

"In  about  five  minutes." 

"Off  for  about  three  minutes,  and  then  on  again!" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  waiter,  and  he  slipped  away 
and  reentered  the  house. 

The  Black  Star  whispered  a  command,  and  the 
men  scattered,  keeping  well  in  the  darkness,  but 


THE  BIG  BLOW  225 

gradually  surrounding  the  house,  except  in  front, 
where  it  was  brilliantly  lighted. 

And  suddenly  the  lights  in  the  house   went  out! 

Feminine  shrieks,  boisterous  laughter,  jests  came 
from  those  within.  To  them  it  was  a  joke — a 
fuse  burned  out  at  a  critical  time.  Branniton  called 
upon  his  servants  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the 
trouble  immediately  and  remedy  it. 

Then,  as  suddenly  as  they  had  been  extinguished, 
the  lights  came  on  again.  The  waiter  had  manipu- 
lated the  switch  in  the  basement  as  the  Black  Star 
had  instructed. 

Mrs.  Richard  Branniton' s  guests  shrieked  in  alarm 
now.  The  doors  had  been  closed;  the  shades  had 
been  drawn  at  the  windows.  And  before  each  door 
and  window  stood  a  man  dressed  in  a  black  robe, 
with  a  black  mask  over  his  face.  Each  one  so 
dressed  held  a  weapon  menacingly  before  him. 

A  voice  from  the  hallway  caused  them  to  turn. 
They  saw  a  tall  man  dressed  in  a  robe,  his  face 
covered  with  a  mask — and  on  the  hood  of  his  robe 
was  a  flaming  star  of  jet. 

"Do  not  make  a  move,  ladies  and  gentlemen!" 
he  cried.  "I  am  the  Black  Star,  and  these  are  my 
men!  We  will  use  violence  if  we  are  forced  to  do 
so,  though  we'd  rather  not.  I  may  mention  that  the 
few  detectives  you  had  in  the  house  have  been  taken 
care  of,  and  you  are  absolutely  at  our  mercy.  The 
telephone  wires  are  cut,  too.  We  are  here  to  make 
a  collection  of  rare  jewels  and  ornaments,  and  to 
carry  away  with  us  three  men." 

"You  crook!"  Branniton  cried,  rushing  toward 
him. 

The  Black   Star  raised  his  arm.      !A!  vapor   gun 


226  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

exploded.     Richard  Branniton  crashed  to  the  floor. 
Women  screamed. 

"He  is  not  injured — merely  rendered  unconscious!" 
the  Black  Star  called  out.  "If  you  faint,  ladies,  I 
am  afraid  that  nobody  will  be  able  to  take  care 
of  you,  so  please  don't  do  it.  Line  up  against 
that  wall,  ladies — and  the  gentlemen  against  this  one. 
Remember — my  men  will  fire  at  the  first  move  any  of 
you  make!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

MUGGS  TAKES  A   CHANCE 

IT  was  an  evening  of  varied  experiences  for  Muggs, 
one  that  he  liked  to  remember  later  as  being 
the  acme  in  adventure  and  chance  taking. 

Muggs  had  been  held  a  prisoner  in  the  head- 
quarters room  at  the  place  to  which  he  had  been 
moved,  listening  to  the  Black  Star  perfect  his  ar- 
rangements for  his  descent  upon  the  Branniton  resi- 
dence— a  prisoner  who  was  allowed  to  see  and  to 
hear,  yet  was  helpless  to  give  a  warning. 

Now  and  then  he  got  up  from  the  couch  and 
walked  back  and  forth  across  the  room,  while  the 
master  criminal  chuckled  behind  his  mask,  and  fre- 
quently indulged  his  taste  for  sarcastic  remarks. 

"My  dear  Muggs,  it  would  be  a  feather  in  your 
cap,  would  it  not,  if  you  were  able  to  tell  the  au- 
thorities all  that  you  know  now?"  the  Black  Star 
asked.  "What  a  sensation  you  could  cause  by  walk- 
ing into  police  headquarters  and  shrieking  your  in- 
formation into  the  ears  of  the  chief  and  the  sheriff 
and  Roger  Verbeck!  But  I  am  afraid  that  you  will 
not  be  able  to  do  anything  of  the  sort,  Muggs. 
However,  we  all  have  our  little  disappointments  in 
life." 

"You'll  have  somethin'  worse  than  a  disappointment 
before  this  thing  is  over!"  Muggs  snarled. 

"You  are  still  inclined  toward  violence — en, 
Muggs?  You  should  cultivate  a  more  peaceful 


228  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

nature,  such  as  I  possess.  Violence  merely  destroys 
itself,  my  dear  Muggs." 

"Yeh,  and  I'll  probably  destroy  you  before  we 
make  an  end  of  this!"  Muggs  declared.  "I  tell  you 
that  you  can't  get  away  with  it!  You're  about  due 
to  strangle  on  what  you've  bitten  off !" 

The  Black  Star  did  not  reply  to  that;  he  merely 
chuckled  and  went  back  to  the  end  of  the  table 
to  consult  his  memorandum  book  again.  It  ap- 
peared to  Muggs  that  the  master  crook  consulted 
that  book  to  a  great  extent  this  day,  acting  as  if 
he  felt  that  there  was  some  minor  detail  he  had 
forgotten. 

After  a  time,  the  little  bell  on  the  wall  tinkled, 
and  a  robed  and  masked  figure  entered  the  room 
and  went  to  the  blackboard.  Muggs  glanced  at  him 
in  disgust.  The  Black  Star's  men  had  been  report- 
ing continually  during  the  day. 

"Number    Five,"    the   man   wrote. 

"Countersign?"  wrote  the  Black  Star  on  his  black- 
board. 

"Everglades." 

"Report." 

"There  appears  to  be  no  suspicion  as  to  what 
we  really  intend  to  do  to-night.  The  police  re- 
serves are  being  held  in  waiting,  and  the  sheriff 
has  his  deputies  ready  for  action,  but  those  seem 
to  be  all  the  arrangements  that  have  been  made." 

"How    about    Verbeck?"    the    Black    Star    wrote. 

"He  is  at  police  headquarters  now,  waiting  for 
the  alarm  so  he  can  take  the  trail." 

"Good.     That  is  all,"  the  Black  Star  wrote. 

The  member  of  the  band  bowed  and  backed  through 
the  door.  The  Black  Star  wrote  something  in  the 


MUGGS  TAKES  A  CHANCE  229 

memorandum  book,  closed  it  and  put  it  into  a  drawer 
in  the  table.  Then  he  turned  toward  Muggs  again. 

"Muggs,  I  have  decided  to  have  you  remain  here 
this  evening,"  he  said,  "I  cannot  spare  the  time  to 
watch  you,  and  so  shall  not  take  you  with  me." 

"Thanks   for  that  much!"    Muggs  growled. 

"You  will  remain  in  this  room,  Muggs,  and  I 
shall  have  to  keep  your  wrists  lashed  together,  of 
course.  I  know  that  it  will  be  uncomfortable — • 
but  that  is  the  penalty  for  discovering  my  old 
headquarters  and  forcing  us  to  move.  I  can't  have 
you  interfering  with  my  plans  to-night,  you  know." 

"If  I  had  a  chance,  I'd  interfere  with  'em,  all 
right!" 

"But  the  chance  is  missing — eh,  Muggs?  Do 
you  mean  you'd  try  to  prevent  me  from  making  a 
fortune  for  my  band  by  running  away  with  some 
jewels  and  a  couple  of  diplomats?" 

"You  haven't  run  away  with  them  yet,"  Muggs 
told  him. 

"It  is  only  a  matter  of  an  hour  or  so,  my  dear 
Muggs.  Probably  I  shall  bring  those  diplomats  here. 
You'll  have  the  chance,  Muggs,  to  associate  with  a 
lord  and  a  knight." 

The    Black    Star    rang,    and    his    servant    entered. 

"I  am  going  to  leave  our  prisoner  here  to-night 
when  I  leave,"  the  Black  Star  said.  "I  expect 
to  find  him  here  when  I  return.  You  understand?" 

"He'll  be  here,   sir!"  the  servant  promised. 

"As  long  as  he  behaves  himself,  give  him  the 
liberty  of  this  room,"  the  master  criminal  went  on 
to  say.  "If  he  does  not  behave,  handle  him  in  your 
own  way." 

"Yes,  sir." 


230  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"Tell  the  mechanic  to  be  ready  to  start  in  ten 
minutes." 

The  servant  hurried  out  The  Black  Star  glanced 
Into  his  memorandum  book  again,  and  paced  the 
floor,  now  and  then  looking  at  the  little  clock  on 
the  table.  After  a  time,  the  servant  returned. 

"The  mechanic  is  ready,  sir,"  he   reported. 

"Good.  Take  care  of  Muggs  while  I  am  gone, 
but  do  not  pester  him  so  long  as  he  is  a  good  boy." 

"He'd  better  not  pester  me!"  Muggs  growled. 

The  Black  Star  wrapped  his  robe  closely  around 
him,  and  put  on  the  heavy  ulster  over  it.  He 
looked  at  Muggs  once  more,  his  eyes  glittering 
through  the  mask.  Then  he  chuckled,  and  hurried 
through  the  door. 

Muggs  threw  himself  full  length  on  the  couch 
and  glared  at  the  man  who  acted  as  the  master 
rogue's  servant. 

"I'm  gettin'  mighty  tired  of  this,"  he  complained. 
"The  eats  are  all  right,  and  I  suppose  I  hadn't 
ought  to  kick,  but  it  ain't  nice  to  have  your  wrists 
tied  together  all  the  time." 

"If  you're  schemin'  to  get  me  to  unfasten  'em, 
you  ain't  goin'  to  work  the  scheme,  I  can  tell  you 
that!"  the  servant  declared.  "Them  wrists  of  yours 
stay  just  as  they  are,  far  as  I'm  concerned." 

"You'd  better  never  let  me  get  'em  loose!"  Muggs 
warned  him. 

"You  wouldn't  do  much  if  they  were." 

"Is  that  so?  I  could  separate  you  into  sections 
in  about  ten  minutes!"  Muggs  told  him. 

The  servant  laughed,  sat  down  at  the  end  of  the 
table,  and  started  to  smoke.  Muggs  glared  at  him, 


MUGGS  TAKES  A  CHANCE  231 

rolled  over,  and  turned  his  back  to  the  room  and 
the  man  in  it. 

'Muggs  might  not  have  shown  it  outwardly,  but 
he  was  almost  frantic.  The  Black  Star  and  his 
men  were  on  their  way,  he  knew.  Before  long 
they  would  surround  the  Branniton  residence.  They 
would  get  inside,  rob  women  guests  of  their  jewels, 
kidnap  the  two  diplomats  and  Branniton,  and  rush 
away  again  before  the  police  could  reach  the  scene. 
Once  more  the  public  would  howl,  and  the  news- 
papers would  ask  why  the  police  and  Roger  Ver- 
beck  did  not  capture  the  master  criminal  who  did 
much  as  he  pleased  with  the  wealth  of  the  town. 

Muggs  did  not  know,  of  course,  where  he  was 
at  the  present  moment.  This  new  headquarters 
might  be  out  at  the  edge  of  the  city,  or  in  the 
very  heart  of  it.  But  Muggs  did  know  that,  if  he 
could  escape  from  the  building,  there  would  be  a 
chance  of  warning  the  police  and  Verbeck,  possibly 
in  time  for  them  to  do  something. 

He  tested  the  cords  that  lashed  his  wrists,  and 
told  himself  for  the  hundredth  time  that  they  could 
not  be  removed.  Everything  had  been  taken  from 
his  pockets,  including  his  knife.  He  had  glanced 
around  the  headquarters  room  whenever  he  had  a 
chance,  and  he  had  failed  to  see  anything  that  might 
help  him. 

To  get  his  wrists  free — that  was  the  first  task. 
And  then  he  would  have  to  escape  from  the  place, 
wherever  it  was.  He  did  not  know  whether  the 
servant  was  the  only  man  remaining  there;  the 
Black  Star  might  have  others  around,  on  guard. 
Nor  were  men  all  that  had  to  be  considered.  There 


232  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

might  be  traps  in  the  house,  there  might  be  anothe$ 
deadly  fence,  or  something  like  that. 

Muggs  was  beginning  to  feel  desperate.  He  knew 
that  every  second  had  its  value  now.  He  rolled  over, 
sat  up  on  the  couch,  and  yawned. 

"I  sure  hope  the  Black  Star  turns  me  loose  to> 
morrow,"  he  said.  "He  hinted  that  he  might,  after 
he  pulled  off  to-night's  stunt." 

"Yes,  and  maybe  he  won't,  unless  the  sheriff 
lets  Landers  and  those  two  women  go,"  the  servant 
said. 

"Gee,  the  sheriff  won't  do  that.  Even  my  boss 
couldn't  make  him  do  it.  He's  got  those  three  in 
the  jug,  and  there  they'll  stay,  unless  the  Black  Star 
rescues  them  himself."  Muggs  got  up  and  walked 
slowly  to  the  table.  "There  ain't  any  law  against 
me  havin'  a  smoke,  is  there?"  he  asked. 

"Help  yourself — anything  like  that  goes  as  long 
as  you  behave,"  the  servant  replied. 

"The  Black  Star  has  a  good  brand  of  cigarettes, 
I'll  say  that  much  for  him,"  said  Muggs.  "My  boss 
smokes  the  same  kind." 

"You're  kinder  crazy  about  that  boss  of  yours, 
ain't  you?"  the  servant  asked. 

"Sure!  Why  not?  He  saved  my  life,  and  he 
certainly  has  helped  me  since.  He  gives  me  a  steady 
job,  good  money,  and  treats  me  decent." 

"He  ain't  like  the  general  run  of  bosses,  then." 

"I  should  say  not!"  Muggs  declared. 

He  put  a  cigarette  in  his  mouth  and  picked  up  a 
match.  It  was  an  awkward  task  with  his  bound 
wrists.  He  struck  the  match,  held  the  flame  to  the 
€nd  of  the  cigarette,  and  puffed  a  cloud  of  smoke. 


MUGGS  TAKES  A  CHANCE  233 

"If  every  man  had  a  boss  like  mine,"  Muggs 
continued,  "the  world  would  be  a  better  place.  I 
had  a  boss  in  Paris  once  that  was  a  terror.  I  almost 
strangled  him  one  day." 

"Why  didn't  you?"  the  servant  asked. 

Muggs  dropped  the  flaming  match — into  the  filled 
wastebasket. 

"Oh,  somethin'  happened  to  stop  me — somebody 
got  his  lamps  on  me,  or  somethin'.  And  I  didn't 
happen  to  get  a  chance  again.  I  had  to  do  a  dodge. 
The  cops  was  after  me." 

"Cops?" 

"Say,  I've  had  real  cops  after  me  in  my  day!" 
Muggs  boasted.  "I  cut  out  that  line  of  life  a  few 
years  ago,  when  I  met  Mr.  Verbeck,  but  before 
that  I  was  somethin'  of  a  terror — especially  in 
Paris." 

"Paris?  I've  never  had  a  chance  to  go  there," 
said  the  servant. 

"You  want  to  go  when  you  get  a  roll,  some  time. 
It's  some  town,  boy — some  town!" 

Muggs  puffed  at  the  cigarette  again,  and  then 
turned  toward  the  couch.  The  servant  gave  a  cry 
and  sprang  from  his  chair. 

"You  cursed  fool!"  he  shrieked.  "You  dropped 
that  match  in  them  papers !" 

Muggs  whirled  around,  astonishment  in  his  face. 
"Put  it  out — or  the  whole  darned  place  will  burn 
down!"  he  cried.  "If  it  catches  on  them  curtains 
and  things " 

He  darted  forward  himself,  snatched  a  small  rug 
from  the  floor,  and  began  beating  at  the  flaming 
wastebasket.  The  servant  was  working  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  trying  to  watch  Muggs  at  the 


234  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

same  time,  but  the  latter  seemed  to  be  eager  to  put 
put  the  fire. 

Muggs  smashed  at  the  flaming  paper  with  his  rug 
• — and  managed  to  scatter  it.  He  ran  from  burning 
sheet  to  burning  sheet,  beating  at  the  flames.  The 
servant  was  not  so  watchful  now.  Muggs  seemed 
intent  only  on  putting  out  the  fire  and  preventing  a 
serious  blaze;  but  as  he  fought  the  flames  he  man- 
aged now  and  then  to  thrust  his  hands  and  wrists 
into  the  fire! 

The  flames  seared  his  flesh,  but  Muggs  ignored 
that.  He  saw  the  cords  that  bound  his  wrists  begin 
to  smoke.  He  saw  fire  attack  one  of  them.  He 
thrust  his  wrists  into  the  fire  again,  as  he  beat  at  a 
sheet  of  flaming  paper,  and  tugged  at  his  bonds. 
The  fire  was  almost  out  now.  He  tugged  at  his 
bonds  again. 

They  gave — they  snapped — Muggs  was  free! 

He  gave  a  cry  of  relief,  whirled  around — launched 
himself  straight  at  the  Black  Star's  servant! 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  ALARM 

THE  man  realized  in  that  instant  that  he  had  been 
tricked.  He  snarled  like  a  beast  and  sprang  to 
one  side. 

Muggs  was  upon  him  before  he  could  utter  a  cry. 
They  clashed,  each  trying  to  find  the  other's  throat. 
Muggs  found  that  this  would  be  no  easy  battle. 
Here  was  a  man  who  was  used  to  rough  tactics, 
such  as  did  not  meet  with  the  the  approval  of  the 
Black  Star. 

Across  the  room  they  fought,  Muggs  trying  to 
get  the  advantage,  trying  to  keep  the  other  from 
shrieking  for  help,  trying  to  get  in  a  blow  that  would 
silence  his  adversary  for  a  time. 

The  servant  fought  to  carry  out  his  orders  that 
Muggs  should  be  kept  prisoner;  but  Muggs  fought 
with  the  knowledge  that  he  was  trying  to  prevent  the 
Black  Star  from  having  success  in  his  latest  under- 
taking, trying  to  help  Roger  Verbeck  to  victory. 

Back  and  forth  across  the  room  they  continued  to 
battle.  They  fought  fiercely,  and  both  were  becom- 
ing exhausted.  Now  they  were  on  their  feet, 
wrestling,  and  now  they  were  upon  the  floor,  rolling 
over  and  over,  striking  at  each  other,  reaching  for 
each  other's  throat  and  eyes. 

And  finally  Muggs  managed  to  get  the  grasp  for 
which  he  had  been  striving.  The  servant  gave  a 
groan  of  pain,  and  his  hold  on  the  valet  relaxed. 


236  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Muggs  choked — choked,  and  finally  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  looked  down  at  the  unconscious  man. 

He  would  be  unconscious  for  some  time,  Muggs 
knew,  as  he  did  not  intend  to  waste  precious  time 
binding  and  gagging  him.  He  ran  to  the  door 
through  which  the  Black  Star  had  gone,  and  stood 
there  for  a  moment  to  listen.  He  heard  nobody  out- 
side— remembered  that  nobody  had  been  attracted  by 
the  sounds  of  combat. 

Muggs  lifted  the  curtain,  opened  the  door,  and 
stepped  into  a  dark  hall.  He  had  no  weapon,  no 
electric  torch,  not  so  much  as  a  match  in  his  pocket. 
He  ran  lightly  to  the  end  of  the  hall  and  found  an- 
other door.  This  he  opened  cautiously,  an  inch  at  a 
time.  He  found  that  it  opened  into  a  room  that  was 
dimly  lighted,  a  room  that  did  not  seem  to  have  seen 
much  use. 

Muggs  hurried  in  and  closed  and  looked  the  door 
behind  him.  On  the  opposite  side  there  was  another 
door;  Muggs  listened  at  that  for  a  time,  and  then 
opened  it.  He  found  himself  facing  another  hall. 

He  hurried  into  it,  and  went  on.  He  came  to  a 
flight  of  stairs  and  went  up.  He  realized,  now,  that 
he  had  been  in  a  basement.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs 
was  a  large  room,  half  filled  with  rusted  machinery 
and  empty  packing  cases. 

Muggs  stooped  and  picked  up  from  the  floor  a 
short  iron  bar;  he  had  a  weapon  now.  On  he  went, 
across  the  big  room  to  a  window.  He  looked  out. 

He  was  in  the  manufacturing  district,  he  knew. 
This  building  was  an  old,  abandoned  factory.  He 
could  see  the  yard  filled  with  scrap  i*on,  the  high 
fence  around  it,  and,  beyond,  the  empty  street. 
Farther  beyond  that  was  the  city,  flashing  with  light. 


THE  ALARM  237 

Muggs  started  to  raise  the  window.  It  stuck,  but 
he  managed  to  pry  it  up  with  the  bar  of  iron,  stop- 
ping now  and  then  to  listen  and  watch.  He  couldn't 
convince  himself  that  the  Black  Star  had  left  no 
guard  other  than  the  servant  now  unconscious  below. 
That  wasn't  at  all  like  the  Black  Star,  Muggs 
thought.  There  must  be  a  trap  somewhere. 

Then  he  remembered  that  the  Black.  Star  had  been 
forced  to  move  quickly.  Perhaps  this  headquarters 
had  not  been  completed  when  the  master  criminal  had 
taken  up  his  abode  there. 

Muggs  got  the  window  up,  put  out  his  head  and 
looked  around.  It  was  pitch  dark  beneath  the  win- 
dow and  along  the  wall.  Muggs  got  through,  low- 
ered himself  and  dropped. 

He  crouched  against  the  wall,  listening,  the  bar  of 
iron  clutched  in  his  hand,  ready  for  instant  fight  if 
occasion  demanded  it.  Then  he  started  following 
the  wall,  going  toward  where  he  had  noticed  a  gate 
in  the  high  fence. 

He  reached  the  corner  of  the  building,  and  glanced 
around  it  cautiously.  Not  far  from  him,  he  seemed 
to  see  something  move.  Muggs  was  not  sure  at  first 
whether  it  was  an  elusive  shadow  or  a  man.  He  de- 
cided an  instant  later  that  it  was  a  man. 

He  scarcely  breathed  now.  He  had  escaped  thus 
far,  and  he  did  not  intend  to  be  stopped.  He  did  not 
intend  to  waste  much  time,  either.  Even  now,  per- 
haps, the  Black  Star  and  his  followers  were  sur- 
rounding the  Branniton  residence.  Even  now,  per- 
haps, they  were  robbing  women  of  their  jewels, 
rendering  the  three  men  they  had  decided  to  abduct 
unconscious,  and  preparing  to  carry  them  away. 


238  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

Like  a  shadow,  the  iron  bar  held  ready,  Muggs 
crept  along  the  wall  in  the  direction  of  the  guard. 

He  was  within  ten  feet  of  him  when  a  match 
glowed.  The  flame  shot  up,  and  Muggs  could  see 
that  the  match  was  burning  in  the  man's  cupped 
hands,  and  that  he  was  trying  to  light  a  cigar. 
Muggs  covered  the  ten  feet  in  two  springs,  the  iron 
bar  swept  through  the  air  and  landed.  There  was  a 
little  whimper,  and  the  Black  Star's  guard  was 
stretched  on  the  ground. 

Muggs  turned  and  ran  across  the  yard.  He  had 
decided  not  to  try  the  gate,  for  there  might  be  an- 
other guard  there.  He  sprang,  grasped  the  top  of 
the  fence,  running  the  risk  that  it  might  be  charged 
and  deadly,  found  that  such  was  not  the  case,  and 
drew  himself  up.  A  moment  later,  he  was  in  the 
street 

Muggs  never  had  been  much  of  a  runner,  but  he 
ran  to-night.  Up  the  street  he  went,  his  elbows  glued 
to  his  sides,  head  bent  forward,  stumbling  and  stag- 
gering over  the  rough  cobblestones,  but  making  ex- 
cellent progress.  There  was  no  person  on  the  street, 
no  vehicle  in  sight.  This  was  an  old  manufacturing 
district  far  down  the  river,  where  there  was  nothing 
to  attract  people.  Only  a  few  street  lights  were 
burning,  and  they  were  far  apart. 

Almost  breathless,  Muggs  ran  on.  His  heart  was 
pounding  at  his  ribs,  his  side  pained,  his  breathing 
was  labored.  He  turned  a  corner  into  another  street, 
and  continued  running! 

Would  he  never  reach  a  telephone?  Would  he 
never  run  across  a  member  of  the  police  force?  Was 
there  nobody  in  that  end  of  town  who  could  help 
him?  Block  after  block  he  ran,  always  looking  for 


THE  ALARM  239 

a  light,  for  a  dingy  saloon,  for  some  place  where  he 
could  get  into  communication  with  police  head- 
quarters and  give  the  alarm.  He  was  in  despair;  he 
felt  that  he  could  not  keep  up  much  longer. 

Presently  he  saw  lights  ahead  of  him,  and  felt  hope 
and  joy  surge  within  him.  Ahead,  only  two  blocks 
away,  was  one  of  the  barns  of  the  city  street  rail- 
way. 

Panting,  exhausted,  Muggs  stumbled  through  the 
entrance  and  ran  into  the  little  office.  Half  a  dozen 
conductors  and  motormen  sprang  from  their  benches 
and  hurried  toward  him. 

"Quick— telephone !"  Muggs  gasped.     "Police " 

He  saw  the  telephone  instrument  on  the  wall,  and 
lurched  toward  it.  He  grasped  the  receiver,  tore  it 
from  the  hook,  began  calling  into  the  transmitter. 
One  of  the  conductors  was  trying  to  talk  to  him-; 
one  of  the  motormen  was  trying  to  stop  him  from 
using  the  instrument  until  he  explained.  Muggs 
threw  out  a  foot  and  kicked  him  away. 

"Police  headquarters!  Police  headquarters!"  he 
shrieked.  "This  headquarters?  Give  me  the  chief! 
This  is  Muggs!  Yes — Muggs!  Hurry — hurry! — 
That  you,  chief?  Mr.  Verbeck  there?  This  is 
Muggs.  I  just — got  away.  Black  Star's  gang — 
going  to  raid — Branniton  house — get  jewels — kidnap 
them  swells " 

And  then  Muggs  sank  slowly  against  the  wall. 

His  words  had  electrified  the  conductors  and  mo- 
tormen. They  picked  him  up,  and  one  of  them  con- 
tinued the  conversation,  telling  what  had  happened, 
but  he  soon  found  himself  talking  to  nobody.  The 
chief  had  recognized  Muggs'  voice  and  that  had  been 
enough. 


24o  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

The  conductors  and  motormen  threw  water  into 
Muggs'  face,  and  he  gasped  and  sat  up.  They  helped 
him  to  a  bench  and  sat  him  there,  while  he  fought 
for  breath,  grasped  his  chest  where  it  pained,  strug- 
gled to  regain  his  strength. 

"Got — to  get  there "  he  gasped. 

"Where?"  one  of  the  men  cried. 

"Richard  Branniton's  house — in  the — West  End!" 

"The  foreman's  flivver's  out  in  front;  he'll  let  us 
use  it,"  a  conductor  cried.  "I  don't  go  on  duty  for 
an  hour  yet.  Come  on!" 

He  ran  toward  the  curb,  and  Muggs  staggered 
after  him.  Muggs  got  into  the  cheap  little  car.  The 
obliging  conductor  cranked  it  and  sprang  in  beside 
him. 

"We'll  get  there  quick,  or  we'll  shake  every  bolt 
and  nut  off  the  blamed  thing!"  he  said. 

The  flivver  lurched  away  down  the  street. 

It  would  have  done  Muggs  good  had  he  been  able 
to  see  the  effect  of  his  message  at  police  headquarters. 
The  chief  sprang  from  his  chair  shrieking  the  news. 
Verbeck  and  the  sheriff  dashed  with  him  through  the 
assembly  room  and  out  to  the  street,  and  as  they 
went,  the  chief  shouted  his  orders.  The  reserves  ran 
out  and  sprang  into  the  automobiles,  the  deputies  did 
the  same. 

"Good  Muggs!"  Verbeck  cried,  as  he  drove  like  a 
fiend  through  the  streets.  "I  knew  he'd  do  it — if  he 
had  a  chance!" 

Verbeck  swung  between  two  street  cars,  causing 
two  motormen  to  turn  pale  for  an  instant,  and  then  to 
curse  joy  riders.  Strung  out  behind  the  powerful 
roadsters  were  the  police  cars.  The  sirens  were  not 


THE  ALARM  241 

working  now.  The  chief  had  issued  orders  that  they 
were  not  to  be  used  if  it  could  be  avoided,  as  it 
would  indicate  to  the  Black  Star  and  his  men  that 
they  were  coming. 

"Hope  we  get  him  this  time !"  the  chief  shrieked 
into  Verbeck's  ear.  "Drive,  man,  drive!" 

Verbeck  drove.  He  forced  the  powerful  roadster 
to  do  its  utmost.  He  called  upon  the  expensive  en- 
gine to  pay  for  itself  this  night.  He  swung  around 
other  vehicles,  dashed  around  corners,  swept  up  hills 
like  a  comet. 

They  passed  through  the  retail  district,  and  got  on 
a  wide  avenue  where  there  was  not  so  much  traffic, 
and  where  better  speed  could  be  made.  And  now 
they  were  in  the  section  of  better  residences,  speed- 
ing on. 

Thy  turned  another  corner — and  the  Branniton 
house  was  but  four  blocks  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

CAUGHT     IN     THE     NET 

AT  the  Branniton  residence,  Richard  Branniton 
was  stretched  on  the  floor,  unconscious  from  the 
effects  of  a  vapor  gun.  The  men  were  standing 
against  one  wall,  the  ladies  against  another.  The 
Black  Star's  men  guarded  the  doors  and  windows 
and  watched  the  guests.  The  master  criminal  himself 
was  in  the  center  of  the  room. 

"I  must  have  all  your  jewels,  ladies,"  he  said. 
"You  need  not  be  alarmed;  you  shall  not  be  harmed 
if  you  conduct  yourselves  properly.  And  you  gentle- 
men will  be  safer  if  you  indulge  in  no  attempt  to 
better  your  present  condition.  I  assure  you  that  you 
are  at  the  mercy  of  my  band." 

He  made  a  sign,  and  three  of  his  men  took  bags 
from  beneath  their  robes  and  started  toward  the  line 
of  women. 

"Take  off  your  jewelry  and  toss  it  into  the  bags," 
the  Black  Star  directed.  "Married  ladies  may  retain 
their  wedding  rings  and  their  engagement  rings,  but 
must  give  up  everything  else.  That  is  just  to  show 
that  I  am  not  hard-hearted,  as  some  persons  would 
have  the  world  believe." 

He  laughed  gleefully  as  his  men  began  their  task. 
Terrified  women  removed  their  jewels  and  handed 
them  over.  Weeping  women,  hysterical  women,  sur- 
rendered necklaces,  brooches,  rings.  The  bags  were 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  NEi;  243 

filled  rapidly,  and  the  Black  Star's  men  stepped  back 
again. 

"And  now  we  have  something  else  to  do,"  the 
Black  Star  said.  "Which  of  you  gentlemen  is  Lord 
Sambery?" 

One  of  them  stepped  forward,  a  dignified  man  of 
perhaps  fifty.  "I  have  that  honor,"  he  said  stiffly. 

"I  admire  you  greatly,  sir,"  the  Black  Star  said. 
"I  have  read  a  great  deal  about  the  work  you  have 
done.  I  admire  you  so  much  that  I  insist  you  be- 
come my  guest  for  a  time." 

"I  beg  your  pardon?"  stammered  the  astonished 
nobleman. 

"I  insist  upon  it,  sir!"  the  Black  Star  said.  "And 
where  is  Sir  Burton  Banks?" 

"I  am  here!" 

"I  admire  you,  too,  sir,  and  you  shall  be  my  guest 
also,"  the  Black  Star  declared. 

"Allow  me  to  decline  your  hospitality,"  said  Sir 
Burton  Banks  stiffly. 

"But  I  cannot  allow  you  to  do  so,"  the  master 
criminal  said,  chuckling.  "You  see,  you  mean  money 
to  me." 

"How  is  that?"  Sir  Burton  Banks  demanded. 

"Not  your  money,"  the  Black  Star  said.  "It  has 
occurred  to  us  that  you  two  gentlemen  are  in  this 
country  on  an  important  mission,  and  that  your  time 
is  very  valuable.  We  have  an  idea  that,  if  you  should 
be  detained,  certain  persons  and  personages  would  pay 
a  handsome  sum  for  your  release." 

"Why,  confound  the  fellow!  He  means  to  abduct 
us  and  hold  us  for  ransom!"  Lord  Sambery  ex- 
claimed. 

"You  have  guessed  it,"  the  Black  Star  said. 


244  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"But  this  is  the  United  States  of  America,  sir, 
and  we  are  in  one  of  its  greatest  cities!  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing!  The  idea  is  preposterous! 
You  can't  do  it!" 

"Can't  we?"  asked  the  Black  Star  with  a  laugh. 
"It's  a  very  simple  thing.  We  just  render  you  un- 
conscious and  carry  you  away — and  you  can  never 
be  found." 

"Why,  you  dare  not!"  cried  Sir  Burton  Banks. 

"I  am  not  particularly  prone  to  fear,"  the  master 
criminal  said.  "I  have  dared  many  things,  and  ac- 
complished many  things  harder  than  kidnaping  a 
couple  of  gentlemen.  You  need  fear  nothing;  you 
shall  be  treated  with  every  courtesy." 

"I— I  shall  fight!"  Lord  Sambery  declared. 

"You  are  an  elderly  man,  sir,  and,  also,  I  abhor 
violence,"  the  Black  Star  reminded  him.  "You  can- 
not fight  long  against  one  of  my  vapor  guns,  your 
lordship." 

"I — I — my  country  will  have  you  punished  for 
this!" 

"The  first  thing  will  be  to  capture  me,  your  lord- 
ship," said  the  master  criminal.  "I  was  captured 
before,  but  managed  to  escape,  as  perhaps  you  know. 
But  we  are  wasting  valuable  time  in  conversation, 
and  I'll  have  ample  time  to  talk  to  you  during  the 
next  two  days.  I  am  forced  to  have  you  gentlemen 
put  to  sleep  for  a  short  time,  but  I  assure  you  there 
are  no  bad  after  effects." 

"You — you "  Sir  Burton  stammered. 

"It  is  quite  useless  to  protest,  or  to  attempt  to 
fight,"  the  Black  Star  informed  him.  "By  the  way, 
I  am  going  to  take  Mr.  Branniton  along,  too." 

"You  fiend!"  Branniton's  wife  cried. 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  NET  245 

"He  shall  not  be  harmed,  my  dear  madam,  but  it 
will  cost  him  something  to  regain  his  liberty.  He 
caused  me  considerable  annoyance;  he  was  the  prose- 
cuting attorney  at  my  trial." 

"And  he  shall  be  again!"  Mrs.  Branniton  retorted. 

"Perhaps — we  shall  see !  I  have  no  idea  of  stand- 
ing trial  again,  my  dear  madam.  By  the  time  I  am 
captured,  your  husband  probably  will  be  a  United 
States  senator,  or  an  ambassador  abroad.  I  realize 
that  he  is  a  man  of  promise." 

The  Black  Star  signaled  to  two  of  his  men,  and 
they  advanced  toward  Lord  Sambery  and  Sir  Burton 
Banks.  The  latter  showed  that  he  intended  to  fight, 
regardless  of  what  the  master  criminal  had  sad.  But 
the  Black  Star's  men  rushed  in,  discharged  their 
vapor  guns,  and  darted  back  again.  The  two  diplo- 
mats toppled  over  on  the  floor.  A  woman  shrieked. 

"They  are  not  harmed  a  bit,"  the  Black  Star  as- 
sured them.  "They  will  simply  awake  from  a  sleep, 
and  feel  quite  fit.  Ladies,  I  regret  that  I  interrupted 
your  little  party.  I  suggest  you  continue  it  after  I 
leave  with  my  men.  In  reality,  you  should  thank  me. 
You  will  have  something  to  talk  about  for  the  re- 
mainder of  your  lives;  and  women,  I  have  heard, 
love  to  talk!" 

He  backed  toward  the  entrance  to  the  hall. 

A  shrill  whistle  came  from  the  lawn  outside — 
another — a  third.  The  Black  Star  whirled  toward 
the  door.  His  men  stood  still,  listening.  Into  the 
room  rushed  a  robed  and  masked  member  of  the 
band. 

"Police,  sir — all  around  the  place!"  he  cried. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

M  UGGS     ARRIVES 

VERBECK'S  roadster  was  stopped  on  the  corner 
nearest  the  Branniton  residence.  Verbeck  and 
the  chief  sprang  out  and  darted  across  the  walk.  The 
police  autos  came  up  and  discharged  their  loads  of 
officers.  The  chief  issued  his  orders  rapidly. 

"Surround  the  place!  Get  into  the  alley!  Pick  up 
everybody  that  looks  suspicious — and  be  ready  to 
fight  and  fight  hard!  Let's  get  them  this  time!" 

Officers  hurried  to  every  side  of  the  house,  poured 
into  the  alley,  rushed  across  the  lawn.  They  caught 
the  men  with  the  limousine,  and  those  with  the  truck 
that  apparently  was  stalled,  and  held  them  for  in- 
vestigation later.  They  drew  a  close  net  around  the 
Branniton  place,  and  the  chief  and  Verbeck,  with 
half  a  dozen  trusted  men,  started  toward  the  front 
veranda. 

But  the  master  criminal  had  had  watchers  scattered 
around  the  lawn.  They  were  caught  in  the  police 
net,  too,  but  they  were  able  to  give  the  alarm.  They 
rushed  inside  the  house;  and  the  Black  Star  was  in- 
formed that  the  police  were  upon  him. 

He  ordered  the  guests  into  one  of  the  smaller 
rooms,  and  closed  and  locked  the  door  on  them. 
He  had  the  lights  turned  off  all  over  the  house;  the 
waiter  attended  to  that.  He  issued  his  orders  rapidly, 
like  a  general  conducting  a  battle,  sent  men  to  defend 
the  doors  and  windows. 


MUGGS  ARRIVES  247 

"Violence  appears  to  be  necessary,"  he  said.  "We 
must  drive  them  off  and  get  away,  or  there'll  be 
more  of  them  upon  us  within  a  short  time!" 

From  a  window  over  the  veranda,  the  Black  Star 
looked  at  the  situation.  Two  of  the  police  automo- 
biles were  playing  searchlights  on  the  sides  of  the 
house.  Another  was  driving  across  the  lawn  to  do 
the  same  on  the  front.  The  Black  Star  took  an  auto- 
matic from  beneath  his  robe,  and  fired  one  shot 
across  the  lawn. 

The  shot  was  a  signal.  From  every  window  shots 
were  sent  at  the  men  surrounding  the  house,  shots 
that  were  not  meant  to  wound  or  kill,  only  to  terrify. 
But  the  chief's  men  were  not  easily  frightened. 

They  sought  refuge  behind  trees  and  clumps  of 
brush,  and  returned  the  fire.  They  shattered  win- 
dows and  made  it  impossible  for  the  Black  Star's  men 
to  remain  in  them.  They  poured  volleys  against  the 
doors. 

But  the  master  criminal  and  his  men  were  safe  so 
far.  The  officers  were  not  able  to  get  inside  the 
house.  The  Black  Star  had  no  wish  to  stand  a  siege, 
for  he  knew  that  there  could  be  but  the  one  outcome. 
There  came  a  lull  in  the  battle,  and  the  Black  Star 
shouted  from  his  window. 

"Is  the  chief  there?" 

"He's  here !"  came  a  voice  from  the  darkness. 

"This  is  the  Black  Star!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  want?  Are  you  and  your 
men  ready  to  surrender  to  us?  We'll  get  you,  and 
get  you  good,  if  you  don't!" 

"Surrender?"  the  Black  Star  said.  "When  I  hold 
the  advantage?" 

"I  don't  see  it!"  the  chief  shouted. 


248  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

"No?  My  dear  chief,  there  are  in  this  house  the 
most  prominent  persons  in  your  fair  city.  We  have 
with  us,  also,  two  diplomats  of  international  fame. 
I  abhor  violence,  but  in  such  a  case  as  this,  it  be- 
comes necessary.  You  will  withdraw  your  men. 
You  will  take  them  to  the  corner,  beneath  the  electric 
light,  where  we  can  see  them  plainly.  You  will  keep 
them  there  fifteen  minutes,  and  after  that  you  may 
do  as  you  please." 

"I  see  myself!"  the  chief  cried. 

"If  you  do  not,  I  shall  use  violence  upon  those  in 
the  house.  For  every  ten  minutes  we  are  forced  to 
remain  here,  I  shall  take  a  human  life.  For  every 
one  of  my  men  wounded  or  slain,  I  shall  take  another 
human  life.  Think  it  over,  chief!" 

The  chief  did  think  it  over,  with  Roger  Verbeck 
to  aid  him.  The  Black  Star  was  at  the  end  of  his 
rope.  Captured  again,  he  was  certain  to  be  convicted 
and  sentenced  to  prison  for  life.  He  was  the  sort 
who  would  go  out  fighting — the  sort  to  do  all  the 
harm  he  could  before  he  went  out. 

"We're  not  sure  that  it's  not  a  bluff!"  Verbeck 
said.  "But  we  can't  do  as  he  asks,  of  course." 

"We'll  rush  the  house!"  the  sheriff  declared. 
"That's  our  business  in  a  case  of  this  kind,  isn't  it? 
We  may  lose  a  few  men,  but  it  must  be  done.  What 
else  is  there  to  do?" 

"We'll  have  to  rush  it!"  the  chief  returned.  "Our 
aim  is  to  get  inside  and  fight  it  out  as  quickly  as 
possible,  without  letting  that  fiend  have  time  to  do 
much  damage.  I'll  give  the  orders."  The  chief 
whispered  them  to  a  captain,  and  he  passed  them  on. 

The  Black  Star  was  shouting  from  a  window 
again.  "'Well,  what  is  the  decision,  chief?" 


MUGGS  ARRIVES  249 

"You  say  you  want  fifteen  minutes?"  the  chief 
asked,  more  to  gain  time  than  anything  else. 

"Fifteen  minutes  will  be  enough,  thank  you.  Re- 
main on  that  corner  with  your  men  for  fifteen  min- 
utes, and  then  do  as  you  please.  That  is  all  I  ask." 

"Well,  you're  asking  enough!  What  do  you 
suppose  the  public  will  say  when  they  know  I  had  you 
and  let  you  go?" 

"My  dear  chief,  they'll  probably  give  you  credit 
for  saving  the  lives  of  some  prominent  persons.  I 
understand  that  the  mayor  is  a  guest  here  this  eve- 
ning. Shall  I  have  him  come  to  the  window  and 
decide  what  you  are  to  do?" 

"Let  him  come!"  the  chief  said. 

He  knew  in  advance  what  the  mayor  would  say. 
The  mayor  would  tell  him  to  charge  the  house,  break 
in,  and  capture  the  Black  Star  and  his  men.  The 
mayor  happened  to  be  a  man  of  courage. 

Thus  the  chief  had  gained  a  little  time,  and  that 
was  all  he  wanted — time  enough  for  his  orders  to  be 
passed  around  to  all  the  officers.  Now  his  men 
were  ready. 

The  chief  blew  his  whistle.  The  searchlights  that 
had  been  playing  on  the  house  were  extinguished; 
and  through  the  darkness  the  police  and  deputies 
rushed  upon  the  Branniton  residence! 

A  volley  greeted  them  from  the  windows,  but  the 
Black  Star's  men  were  firing  wildly  into  the  dark- 
ness, and  their  shots  had  no  effect.  Officers  and  depu- 
ties crowded  the  veranda,  attacked  the  French  win- 
dows, battered  at  the  doors. 

A  cheap  automobile  lurched  around  the  corner  and 
stopped  in  front  of  the  house.  Muggs  had  arrived! 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

AN  EMPTY  NET 

MUGGS  never  forgot  that  wild  ride  in  the  flivver. 
The  street-car  conductor  drove  the  little  ma- 
chine as  if  it  had  been  a  racing  car.  It  lurched 
around  corners,  almost  ran  down  traffic  policemen, 
swung  ahead  of  street  cars.  The  conductor  was  like 
a  maniac.  He  always  had  craved  excitement  and  ad- 
venture. Now  it  had  come  to  him,  and  he  intended 
to  make  the  most  of  it. 

They  dashed  up  to  the  Branniton  residence,  and 
Muggs,  not  even  thinking  of  thanking  the  conductor, 
sprang  out  and  rushed  across  the  lawn. 

"Boss!  boss!"  he  shrieked  above  the  din. 

Somebody  told  him  that  Verbeck  was  on  the  ve- 
randa. He  rushed  there  and  found  his  employer. 

"Boss,  was  I  in  time?"  he  asked.  "I  got  loose  as 
soon  as  I  could!" 

"You  bet  you  were,  Muggs.  The  Black  Star's  in- 
side, with  some  of  his  gang!" 

"I  told  the  big  stiff  this  was  goin'  to  be  his  un- 
lucky night!  You  give  me  a  chance  to  get  at  him, 
boss !  I've  got  a  few  scores  to  settle  with  that  bird !" 

"We'll  all  get  at  him,  Muggs !  We'll  be  inside  in  a 
minute !" 

The  doors  and  windows  were  crashing  in  now. 
Policemen  and  deputies  were  pouring  into  the  house. 
Shots  greeted  them,  shots  from  both  automatics  and 
vapor  guns.  They  struggled  through  clouds  of  the 


AN  EMPTY  NET  251. 

pungent  vapor,  here  and  there  a  man  dropping  be- 
cause he  had  inhaled  some  of  the  fumes.  They 
grappled  with  men  in  black  robes  and  masks. 
Through  the  house  they  fought,  while  outside  were 
others  who  watched  every  exit  and  caught  those  who 
tried  to  get  away  from  the  place. 

One  of  the  deputies  had  been  an  electrician  for- 
merly, and  he  knew  where  the  light  switches  were 
located  in  the  Branniton  house.  He  fought  his  way 
to  the  kitchen,  found  them,  and  turned  on  the  lights. 

Things  were  better  for  the  policemen  and  deputies 
after  that.  They  could  tell  friends  from  foes.  The 
Black  Star's  men  barricaded  themselves  in  certain 
rooms.  Some  of  them  threw  down  their  weapons 
and  held  up  their  hands  in  token  of  surrender,  and 
were  immediately  seized  and  handcuffed.  The  others 
were  cleared  from  the  lower  floor,  fought  up  the  wide 
stairs,  and  continued  the  battle  on  the  second  floor. 

Verbeck  and  Muggs  were  in  the  thick  of  the  fight. 
They  were  looking  for  the  Black  Star.  So  were  the 
chief,  and  Sheriff  Kowen.  They  searched  the  base- 
ment and  the  rooms  on  the  ground  floor,  but  found 
no  trace  of  him. 

"He's  on  the  second  floor!"  Verbeck  cried.  "Up 
we  go!" 

The  guests  who  had  been  held  prisoners  were  re- 
leased from  the  room  in  which  they  had  been  locked. 
The  women  fled  to  the  lawn,  and  across  it  to  the 
street.  Some  of  the  men  went  with  them ;  others 
joined  in  the  fray.  There  was  a  crowd  in  the  street 
now  and  more  people  were  arriving  every  minute. 
Word  had  flashed  throughout  the  city  that  the  Black 
Star  and  his  followers  had  been  cornered  in  the  resi- 
dence of  Richard  Branniton. 


252  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN1 

The  members  of  the  band  were  being  caught  rap- 
idly. A  few  had  been  wounded,  a  few  officers  also. 
But  the  criminals  were  scattered  now,  and  here  and 
there  one  surrendered,  or  was  overpowered. 

Verbeck  and  Muggs,  the  chief  and  the  sheriff 
thought  of  nothing  but  the  Black  Star.  They  knew 
that  the  policemen  and  deputies  could  care  for  the 
others  of  the  band.  It  was  the  master  criminal  him- 
self that  they  wanted,  to  put  him  behind  prison  bars 
once  more,  to  have  years  added  to  his  sentence,  to 
send  him  to  the  big  prison  up  the  river  where  he  no 
longer  would  be  a  menace  to  society  at  large. 

They  ran  from  room  to  room,  searching  for  him. 
They  shrieked  suggestions  to  one  another  above  the 
din  of  the  battle.  They  found  a  room  at  one  end  of 
the  upper  hall,  with  the  door  locked,  and  hurled 
themselves  against  it  and  broke  it  in. 

There  they  saw  the  man  they  wanted.  He  had 
thrown  off  his  robe  and  mask.  He  held  a  bomb  in 
his  hand — and  stopped  them  with  a  gesture. 

"Wait!"  he  commanded.  "This  is  not  a  vapor 
bomb — it  is  the  real  thing.  It  can  blow  all  of  us  to 
bits!  So  four  of  you  came  to  get  me,  eh?  Mr.  Ver- 
beck, and  the  chief  and  the  sheriff — and  Muggs.  I 
suppose,  since  you  are  free  and  here,  that  you  did  all 
this,  Muggs?" 

"You  bet  I  did!"  Muggs  cried. 

"Wait,  gentlemen!  Don't  make  a  move  to  raise  a 
weapon,  or  we  all  will  be  hurled  into  the  hereafter." 
The  Black  Star  stepped  back  toward  a  window.  "I 
suppose  you  have  me  cornered,"  he  said.  "I  suppose 
you  think  you  are  going  to  take  me  back  to  jail. 
But  it  happens  that  I  have  one  card  yet  to  play!" 

He  hurled  the  bomb,  and  it  exploded.     It  was  a 


AN  EMPTY  NET  253 

vapor  bomb,  after  all.  The  cloud  of  pungent  gas 
assailed  them.  They  whirled  to  either  side,  away 
from  it.  There  was  a  crash  of  glass. 

"He's  gone  through  the  window !"  Muggs  shrieked. 

Trying  to  keep  from  breathing,  they  rushed  to 
the  window,  got  through  it  and  to  the  roof  of  the 
veranda,  where  they  gulped  the  fresh  air! 

The  Black  Star  had  jumped  to  the  ground.  They 
saw  him  for  an  instant.  Then  he  was  lost  in  the 
darkness.  The  chief  shouted  a  warning  to  his  men. 

"Down,  and  after  him!"  Verbeck  cried. 

"We've  got  him !"  cried  the  chief.  "The  entire 
yard  is  surrounded.  He's  in  a  trap !" 

•Muggs  was  the  first  to  reach  the  ground.  He  did 
not  stop  to  climb  down  one  of  the  posts,  but  did  as 
the  master  criminal  had  done — jumped. 

Verbeck  and  the  chief  and  Sheriff  Kowen  were 
not  far  behind  him.  Officers  who  had  been  on  the 
veranda  charged  after  the  Black  Star  in  response  to 
the  chief's  command. 

The  net  grew  tighter.  They  were  in  a  corner  of 
the  lawn,  calling  to  one  another.  A  police  auto  drove 
across  the  grass,  and  the  searchlight  was  turned  on. 

There  was  the  circle  of  policemen  and  deputies, 
with  Verbeck  and  Muggs,  the  chief  and  the  sheriff  at 
one  side  of  it. 

But  the  Black  Star  was  gone! 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE  LETTER 

HE  can't  have  got  away!"  Muggs  exclaimed. 
"Where  did  he  go?"  the  chief  demanded. 

"He  didn't  come  past  us,"  one  of  the  policemen 
declared.  "I  don't  see  how  he  got  out  of  the  circle. 
Why,  he  hasn't  had  time  to  get  away;  and  the  men  in 
the  street " 

The  officers  in  the  street  already  had  been  warned. 
The  entire  block  was  surrounded;  it  seemed  impos- 
sible that  the  master  criminal  could  escape. 

"Maybe  he  dodged  the  boys  here,  but  he'll  never 
get  away  from  the  block!"  the  chief  declared.  "Have 
more  searchlights  turned  on  the  lawn,  and  tell  the 
men  in  the  alley  to  keep  awake.  He  can't  be  far !" 

Out  of  the  sky  came  a  blinding  light.  It  flooded 
the  house  and  lawn,  turned  the  night  into  day. 

"That— that  light "   Sheriff  Kowen  gasped. 

The  light  disappeared.  They  waited,  watching  the 
sky.  They  were  silent  now.  No  sound  reached  their 
ears  except  the  din  from  the  house.  They  saw  noth- 
ing. 

And  then  they  heard  the  Black  Star's  voice. 

"Did  you  really  think  you  had  me?"  it  said.  "I 
must  admit  that  you  have  wrecked  my  plans  and 
scattered  my  organization  again.  Some  of  my  men 
will  have  to  go  to  prison,  I  suppose,  but  you  haven't 
caught  me,  never  will  catch  me!  I  shall  leave  the 
city,  and  you  cannot  prevent  it.  I  have  prepared  for 


JHE  LETTER  255 

this  emergency.  When  my  organization  is  formed 
again,  perhaps  I  shall  return.  My  campaign  is  over 
for  the  present,  but  there  will  be  another!" 

The  voice  died  away.  There  was  silence  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  the  brilliant  light  flashed  again, 
flooded  the  lawn,  almost  blinded  the  men  there. 

"There  is  a  letter  by  the  alley  gate!"  The  voice  of 
the  Black  Star  now  came  to  them  faintly.  "Good 
night,  gentlemen!" 

"Gone!"  the  chief  gasped.     "Gone!" 

"But  how  on  earth "  Kowen  began. 

"That  letter!"  Verbeck  cried.  "Let's  get  it!" 
They   hurried   to   the   alley  gate,   and   there   they 
found  the  letter,  as  the  Black  Star  had  said.     They 
carried  it  back  to  the  police  automobile,  and  read  it 
in  front  of  the  searchlight. 

GENTLEMEN  :  If  you  have  this  letter,  it  means 
that  my  plans  have  been  ruined,  and  that  I  have 
been  forced  to  escape.  I  cannot  neglect  this 
chance  to  tell  you  how  futile  have  been  your 
efforts. 

Have  you  wondered  how  I  spoke  to  you  out  of 
the  sky?  Have  you  worried  about  the  bright 
light?  Are  you  surprised  at  the  way  I  escaped 
you  just  now? 

I  have  in  my  organization  a  Wonderful  man. 
He  is  a  mechanical  genius  gone  wrong.  He 
has  perfected  airplanes  as  no  man  dreams  they 
can  be  perfected.  I  have  been  using  an  airplane 
— but  it  is  a  noiseless  airplane!  Can  you  imag- 
ine what  that  would  mean  if  the  world  had  the 
secret?  An  airplane,  as  the  public  knows  it, 
heralds  its  approach.  With  this,  I  can  sail  at 


256  BLACK  STAR'S  CAMPAIGN 

night  over  the  city,  without  making  the  slightest 
noise.  I  can  hover  over  a  certain  spot 

Yes,  I  mean  hover.  For  this  airplane  is  so 
perfected  that  it  can  stand  still  in  the  air.  It 
can  be  raised  or  lowered  straight  up  or  down. 
Do  you  understand  now? 

The  airplane  was  hovering  over  the  lawn,  a 
rope  ladder  dropped  from  it.  I  merely  climbed 
up  the  ladder  as  the  airplane  ascended.  I  am 
writing  this  in  advance,  but  I  know  what  I  shall 
do,  if  forced.  I  always  plan  for  every  emer- 
gency, you  see.  And  while  you  poor  fools  bite 
your  nails  in  your  chagrin,  I  shall  be  speeding 
through  the  air  to  a  certain  refuge  I  have  pre- 
pared. There  I  shall  recuperate  and  plan  some 

more. 

*    *    *    *    * 

Roger  Verbeck  read  the  letter  aloud.  A  chorus  of 
gasps  came  from  those  who  heard. 

"Well,  he  is  gone!"  Verbeck  said.  "But  his  band 
is  broken  up,  and  that  is  something!" 

"And  if  he  ever  comes  back  here,  we'll  get  him, 
won't  we,  boss?"  Muggs  asked. 

"We'll  get  him!"  Roger  Verbeck  said.  There  was 
determination  in  his  voice. 

THE  END 


TO   THE   READER 


If  you  have  enjoyed  this  book,  you  will  be  glad  to 
know  that  there  are  many  others  just  as  well  written, 
just  as  interesting,  to  be  had  in  the  Chelsea  House 
Popular  Copyright  Novels. 

The  stories  which  we  will  publish  in  this  line  have 
never  appeared  in  book  form  before,  and  they  are 
without  question  the  best  value  in  the  way  of  cloth- 
bound  books  that  has  been  offered  to  the  reading 
public  in  many  years. 

CHELSEA   HOUSE 

79  SEVENTH  AVENUE  NEW  YORK  CITY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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